


smile like a switchblade

by n7punk



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Consent, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, Just everyone in suits all the time, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Modern AU but still different species, Mutual Pining, Office Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Slow Burn, Smut, Strapping, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 192,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26522239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n7punk/pseuds/n7punk
Summary: A lot has changed for Adora since Angella adopted her. She got a sister who is technically her cousin, she got out of that shitty home, she got an education and a future. But with her own mothers’ disappearances still unsolved and Adora appearing on the public stage as she enters the company, danger is implicit. Adora gets a bodyguard - and her heart stops when, despite the six years between them, she recognizes her.(Corporate Heiress Adora/Ex-Assassin Bodyguard Catra modern AU)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 920
Kudos: 1105
Collections: Catradora AUs by n7punk





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back. I’m doing it again. Hey, for my _fourth_ modern AU at least Catra and Adora did not have a falling out. Catra didn’t even block Adora’s number this time! It’s progress okay.  
> This first chapter also bounces around in time, but after the prologue it is pretty much linear.  
> As always, everyone is the same species from the show, there isn’t magic (mostly), and SW’s legal name is first name Shadow last name Weaver.  
> CONTENT WARNING: referenced child abuse, mentioned pretty clearly but not depicted, specifically lashing. Also child abduction kind of.

She tries to find her. Shortly after Catra would have turned eighteen, Adora slips into Angella’s home office, wringing her hands and chewing on her lip.

“Yes, Adora?” Angella asks her in her calm, collected way. When she first adopted Adora their relationship was strained, a dead woman both sister and mother between them, estranged and never known before her death, and no real idea what to say to her long-lost niece or how to communicate with her long-lost aunt. They have gotten better, over the last year – good enough that Adora cannot hold back asking the question any longer.

“I wanted help with something,” Adora admits, making her way to sit on the loveseat near Angella’s desk. Angella’s brow creases, clearly picking up on the waver in Adora’s voice. She turns her chair to face Adora, leaning forward to give her undivided attention.

“What do you need, Adora?” she asks, gentle encouragement in her voice promising to give it to her. Adora draws a shaking breath.

“I told Glimmer, I don’t know if she told you, but back in the home- sometimes kids would… leave with this man. They weren’t being adopted, but we never saw any of them again. It happened to my friend. I came home one day and she was gone. I was – hoping to look for her,” Adora explains, still wringing her hands and looking down at her shoes.

Angella is silent for a long moment. “Adora, I need you to be honest with yourself: is it possible she ran away?” Angella asks her, voice gentle. Despite the kindness in her voice, Adora's head snaps up to glare at her. It is the first time she has dared to be harsh with her aunt, but she _cannot_ abide by someone implying Catra would leave _without her_.

“Catra would _never_ leave me. And the others told me she was taken,” Adora refutes, stomach churning. Angella startles back at her conviction. Her gaze is empathetic, but Adora can see the same darkness brewing there that she gets whenever Adora asks about her mothers.

“Give me her full name. I will look into it – and the others. I will need you to give me more details, but I think we should wait until your next therapy session before we bring up those memories,” Angella promises her. Adora feels tears of relief slip from her eyes.

“Thank you,” she manages to choke out.

Despite her promises – despite hiring investigators and pouring over records – Angella finds nothing. Catra Driluth does not exist, not legally. Adora does not know any of the full names of the other kids that disappeared – Lonnie was just Lonnie, Rogelio just Rogelio – and Shadow’s home was already shut down after Angella exerted pressure the day she caught sight of Adora’s scars. The records were quickly buried to avoid further scandal. The niece of the closest thing to American royalty being abused by the system was bad enough – they certainly didn’t need anyone finding out about missing orphans.

Adora wanted to find Catra again before she went to college, before she spent four years tied down to one place without her and before she went into working for her aunt come graduation. Instead, she finds _nothing_ \- and nothing only seems to confirm her worst fears.

She always hid her scars, when she could. The scratches across her nose she could never hide and never tried to, an accident that had earned Catra worse retribution from Shadow than what she had given Adora. Adora always wore that scar openly, a show of solidarity with her friend who she never wanted to be hurt for her sake. Now, Adora stops covering the scars on her arms too, baring the nicks and clawmarks from accidents throughout their shared childhood. These scars she is proud of. These scars she clings to as proof that Catra once _existed_.

\--

Sometimes, a man named Hordak visits the home. Catra is never able to nail down when or how often – it seems to be completely random. No one else ever visits more than a few times, usually to meet with the same child before adoption is finalized. Hordak may not visit often, but he does it for years – and _has_ been doing it since long before Catra or Adora came here.

He always visits with the teenagers, and never visits the same teenager twice – because anyone he visits always leaves with him. They are never given a warning before Hordak appears. Shadow always greets him warmly, showing him inside and giving him a list of good _candidates_. She either knows in advance or is unbothered by him appearing unannounced to take one of her wards away.

As they get older, Adora begins to grab Catra and hide away with her when Hordak appears. Catra does not know what happens to the kids that leave with Hordak, but she knows it is far from a normal adoption. As much as she hates how Adora ushers her into closets or out of the home entirely, she goes willingly. She knows she is Shadow’s favourite target, and something tells her not even Adora’s affection can protect her when it comes to Hordak.

None of them are allowed to mention Hordak to anyone outside of the home. Kyle had, once, and when Shadow found out she had lashed him in front of the other kids until the message was clear: follow the rules, and keep your mouth shut. They are not even supposed to discuss Hordak amongst themselves, but Adora and Catra do a lot of things they are not supposed to.

“I bet he works for the government. He’s taking them away for a secret CIA program or something,” Adora speculates one night in a whisper, tucked into the back of a closet with Catra. Hordak had been there the day before, taking another one of the older kids. It is the way most of the older teenagers leave the home if they leave at all before they age out of being the government’s problem.

“I bet he’s a Hannibal type. You see how pale he is? Maybe he’s one of those freaks who thinks they are a vampire,” Catra shoots back. Adora shudders at her words, but Catra thinks she is more right than Adora is. Shadow is not nearly important enough to get in with some secret program – but she is sleazy enough to be selling kids off.

“You watch too much cable,” Adora refutes, but Catra can tell it is _denial_. The next time Hordak visits, Adora’s hands shake as she leads her away.

\--

Adora finds herself shaky, knowing she is visibly pale when Hordak visits the day after her fifteenth birthday. Catra is stuck in detention, mercifully safe, but it leaves Adora alone and _fifteen._ Birthdays are not celebrated in the home, but they still know theirs. She and Catra had snuck out during the night, making their way to the street-side basketball court a few blocks over to just hang out together and laugh as loudly as they wanted. It was all she ever could have asked for.

And then Hordak showed up. Fifteen to seventeen is his sweet spot, the most dangerous years for anyone living in the home. Adora tries to make herself scarce, but Shadow catches sight of her as she leads Hordak in. She _feels_ the blood drain from her face as she hastily bows and excuses herself from the room. She hides in the laundry room, even though she does not have laundry duty this week, working through the loads waiting there and trying to calm herself by folding the dry clothes.

Shadow finds her there two hours later. “Now, Adora, I know you are _diligent_ , but taking over others’ duties just encourages them to _slack_ ,” Shadow admonishes. Her presence always makes Adora a bit uneasy, but she never leaves Hordak’s side when he visits, so he must be gone now. The relief of having escaped another one of his visits outweighs Adora’s discomfort in the moment.

“Sorry, Madame Weaver, I just needed to feel useful,” Adora tells her, carefully extricating herself from the load she was working on. Shadow watches her with calculating eyes, reaching a hand out to caress her cheek and turn her face up to look at her.

“You are _very_ useful, Adora. A shining example of what a child in my home could achieve. You have always been special. I intend for you to stay here as long as you continue to exemplify what one of my wards can be,” Shadow assures her. Adora swallows down her fear, nodding quickly and trying to appear grateful.

She isn’t. She got the message: slip, and you will be the next given to Hordak. She understands the underlying threat past even that: she is an honours student, her football team’s star player. She reflects great on Shadow as a caregiver – she helps Shadow stay in charge whenever her home comes under review, and Shadow needs all the help with that she can get. Shadow will not give her up to some random adopters, not before Adora turns eighteen and she has to. Adora is damned if she succeeds, but doomed if she fails.

\--

Catra screams. She cries for Adora, even though she is not here and her football game will not even be over for an hour more. She claws and bites. She _hopes_ one of the neighbours will hear her.

Her world goes black. When she wakes up, she is not in the home anymore.

Lonnie and Rogelio are there. It has been months since Lonnie was taken, two years since she last saw Rogelio. They look at her with pity when she sits up and asks where she is.

\--

_Six years_. It is all Adora can think as she stares, her heart pounding in her ears. There are people talking around her. Glimmer has a hand on her arm, grip tight as she tries to keep Adora on her feet. Adora is not passing out, not really, but she knows why Glimmer thinks that. She knows she has to be pale, a sure sign of another stress collapse coming, but that is not the case. No, she is pale because she has seen a _ghost_.

Catra’s eyes are soft, despite her calm façade and tense stance. “Hey, Adora,” she greets, voice just a little rough, exactly like Adora remembers it sounding when she had just woken up. Adora yanks herself out of Glimmer’s grip, stumbling around her desk as her cousin _squeaks_ behind her. Catra darts forward to meet her, clearly afraid she is going to fall. Catra does not _hug_ people, she just doesn’t, but she wraps Adora in her arms to steady her.

Adora clutches her back, feeling tears running down her face.

“You’re alive,” she manages to choke out, voice so quiet she knows only Catra can hear it. Catra snorts against her shoulder, but the sound is a little too wet to just be her old laugh.

“Not for lack of trying, but yeah,” she assures, clutching Adora a little tighter in against her. She clears her throat, raising her head to look over Adora’s shoulder at the people behind her. Adora is not concerned with any of that. She is too busy drinking in the details of Catra’s face after _six fucking years_ apart. “And now, my job is to keep _you_ alive, so if you could get one of your stupid protein bars I _know_ you still eat, I would like to make sure you don’t pass out on my first day,” Catra tells her, and the room at large.

Adora makes no motion to move. She hears movement behind her, the sound of her desk drawer opening, and the crinkle of a wrapper. Catra shifts her arms, and Adora is not even _embarrassed_ by the whine she releases as Catra pulls away. Catra laughs softly to herself, sound a little strained but fondness evident in her eyes as she shifts to stand beside Adora, arm still around her waist to keep her supported as she moves her to settle in one of the chairs in front of her desk for guests. They are not making it all the way around the desk right now. Catra perches on the arm of the chair like she always used to – when she wasn’t in Adora’s lap outright - and gives a polite but curt nod to Glimmer as she approaches with the bar.

Catra unwraps it halfway for her, holding it out for Adora. “Eat. We can catch up when your blood flow has returned to normal and we are in a secure location. Not that Alliance security is lacking, but there are too many people coming and going for it to be fully secured,” Catra orders her. Adora takes the bar numbly, still unable to take her eyes off Catra as she bites into the bar. Catra does not seem to be having the same issue – she regularly darts her gaze about the room and out the windows, although that is kind of her _job_ now.

In the background, Glimmer clears her throat. “You two know each other?” she asks, voice pointed and concern obvious.

“We grew up together,” Catra supplies, looking Glimmer’s way before she sweeps the room again and then looks back to Adora. She sighs, rolling her eyes, and reaching one hand out to push the bar closer to Adora. “ _Eat_ , Adora. I swear, if you are still as bad at taking care of yourself as you were in high school, then this will be more babysitting than bodyguarding. We could have an assassination attempt a day and it still won’t be as hard as getting you to sit down before you pass out.”

Adora is torn between laughing and crying at the familiarity of it all, at the relief of Catra _being here_ , at the fact that Catra is not mad at her for failing to protect her when she _promised_. She is trapped between the two responses, so she just continues to stare at Catra in awe and takes another bite of her bar. She does not miss the satisfied twitch at the corner of Catra’s mouth when Adora follows her orders. Adora’s next swallow is a little too thick.

“If she used to be _worse_ then I don’t want to know what she was like. _We grew up together_ is vague, Ms. Gray. How well did you know each other?” Glimmer interrogates. Out of the corner of her eye, Adora can tell Glimmer has sat in her chair behind the desk, Bow standing over her shoulder with his arms crossed. She could not give a shit about Glimmer being in her chair. It has only been hers for a few months anyway.

Catra hesitates, though Adora is sure she is the only one who picks up on it. Catra holds herself differently now, not actually tense but carefully alert, her body under tight control. Adora still recognizes the hesitance in the slight pinch at the corner of her eyes, the same way she always got right before she steeled herself to talk with Shadow. “We were best friends,” Catra settles on saying. Adora takes another bite of her bar to avoid reacting to that. It is _true_ , she just hates the word _were_ , even though it has been six years and they are clearly both different people now.

Adora can still always find her way home to the little blonde girl who clutched her best friend close in the dead of night as they both sought comfort they could get from no one else. She hopes Catra is the same way.

Glimmer pauses for a moment. “I thought her name was Catra?” Glimmer asks, question clearly directed at Adora. Adora feels the confusion drawing across her face. Catra does not wince, but her expression is artfully blank, and that might as well be the same thing.

“I go by Cyra, now,” Catra tells Adora, sending her a clear _wait_ look. Adora knows she must look _more_ confused, but Catra shrugs and looks away. Her shoulders are tense, tail stilled except for sharp flicks of the tip. She does not want to talk about it, not now and not in front of someone else.

“Do you want me to call you that?” Adora settles on asking before she takes the final bite of her bar. She still feels shaky, but she thinks she is not going to pass out now. Catra snorts, sending her a withering look that makes Adora’s cheeks flush.

“You have to, in public, but if you do it behind closed doors you are going to need someone to protect you from _me_ ,” Catra tells her. Glimmer releases an indignant squawk from behind the desk and Bow actually starts forward, but Adora just grins, heart racing. Joy probably, arousal _definitely_ , but Catra always had that effect on her.

“I distinctly remember you saying the _opposite_ about something else I used to call you,” Adora teases, breath coming fast now at the thrill of bantering with Catra again. Catra flushes, ears pinning back and tail lashing behind her.

“I- need to debrief with the head of security now we’re introduced. Don’t try to stand until I get back,” Catra deflects, rising from the chair and practically _fleeing_ the room. Adora slumps back in her chair, a bit disappointed and not really wanting to take her eyes off Catra, but she knows she also needs the time to calm her body. She reacts just as strongly to Catra now as she did in high school – maybe more so, with the distance only increasing her longing for her friend.

Glimmer stares at her as she tries to calm her racing heart and even her breathing.

“She’s the one, isn’t she? The one you lost,” Glimmer asks her, barely any question in her voice.

“Yeah,” Adora breathes. Her voice is stupidly joyful even to her own ears.

“I’m happy for you, I really am – but this is going to be a fucking disaster,” Glimmer follows up. Adora tilts her head back, staring up at the ceiling as she tries to will her flush to recede.

“ _Yeah_ ,” she agrees.

\--

It took her a year of training in that vile place to start being sent on hits, and another two of carrying them out, but she has the skills to survive on her own now, to stay ahead of her _former employers_ , and with some carefully-planned violence, she is free. Once she gets out, however, Catra realizes she is not a _person_ like other people are anymore. She cannot just go back, just turn her hyper-vigilance off. She really has no choice but to keep using the skills she was taught against her will, but she does not have to use them the same way she did before.

Bodyguard work is easy – far easier than the things the Horde had her do. She never has to spy or manipulate her way to a target, never has to be social and pretend to be someone she isn’t – aside from using her alias, at least. She is free to be her paranoid self in the corner, and even if she has to keep _quiet_ , her internal monologue can still mock her fumbling clients. She only gets shot at occasionally. It is nice, comparatively, and whenever she spends an evening washing blood out from beneath her claws, she at least knows it was from someone she saved or from someone like _her_ – someone who deserved it.

From the second she gets out, all Catra wants to do is find Adora, but she does not give in to the urge. Adora would be nineteen now, aged out of the home. Hordak never got his hands on her – he preferred the hybrids for their built-in weapons, anyway. Catra had still passed up a near-perfect opening for an escape attempt to stay until Adora's eighteenth birthday so she _knew_ she had kept safe from him. The temptation to search for Adora is nearly-overwhelming, but Catra can’t risk trying to be a part of her life again.

Catra was never innocent, but the last time they touched she was not a _killer_. Adora deserves better than her, no matter how badly Catra wants back the one person she loved – the one person she thinks ever loved _her_. Catra can’t ruin whatever semblance of a life Adora has managed to scrape together since she turned eighteen. She wouldn’t want Catra once she figured out who she has become, anyway.

Catra would rather stay away knowing Adora loves the memory of her than see the horror on her face at who Catra really is now. Catra takes her last name – partially – and does what she has always done. She works, and she clings to the memories of the only time she was ever happy, despite all the misery that was always around them. She steadily rises in notoriety within her agency. She gets small jobs at first, but eventually the importance and length of her assignments increases. After three years, she is offered her first long-haul gig.

“They hire all their security staff out from us. The contract is a year, but if they are impressed with you, it could turn into a permanent position. We have a long-standing deal with them. Their head of security is our former director,” her boss tells her when he calls her into his office. Catra has no interest in a permanent position, but she is also getting _antsy_.

Maybe she takes this job, settles in a private residence for a while, and then moves on to a new company when it starts feeling too constricting. Nothing has mattered in six damn years, anyway. The itch building beneath her fur can only be satisfied by one thing – one person – but maybe she can bury it with a _change_. She accepts the tablet with the dossier when he extends it to her.

“The employer is Angella Queens. Old money. Her niece just graduated college and started working for her. Her parents disappeared under mysterious circumstances, so Mrs. Queens wants to get her a personal guard. Twenty-four-hour job, following to work and securing the home property once you arrive,” he explains. Catra flicks the page past the basics of the job and feels her heart stop.

Visibly, she has been long-trained to not react. She still feels her ears twitch and her heart race as she is confronted with a face that even after six years she knows better than her own. She has filled out, her jawline strong and cheeks just a bit sharper, those ridiculous bangs finally grown out, but her smile is just as warm and her eyes just as blue as Catra remembers. She still bears the scars across her nose that Catra left there when they were twelve. Catra does not need to read the header with the name _Adora Grayskull_ to know her best friend’s face.

The last thing Catra should do is take this job. The last thing she should do is put Adora in more danger than she apparently already is in. Not now that she has a _family_ , somehow. But now she knows that Adora is already exposed to this world, however partially it is, she feels her heart _straining_ in her chest.

Catra resisted the urge to look Adora up for the three years she has been out. Some days she missed her so desperately she had to tear and slice with her claws to stop her fingers from twitching towards her computer. Now, when Adora falls into her lap, she cannot resist, cannot turn away. It feels inevitable, unavoidable, that they would come together again.

“I’ll take the job. I need a change anyway,” she decides. Her voice is calm and collected.

When she leaves work that day, she shreds her sofa beneath her claws.

\--

Bow is on the phone as soon as Glimmer and Adora finish speaking. He calls Angella, but Adora does not really listen to the conversation. She knows what is happening, anyway. Angella is going to come down from her fancy CEO office and look at Adora with blatant concern while Adora tries to assure her everything is fine without bursting out that this is the best day of her _life_.

Catra is here. Clearly she has been through some shit to be where she is now, to be so clearly trained the way she is now, but her laugh is still the same, and Adora still knows how to bring it out. That is all that matters to her.

Angella arrives, surprisingly, alone. It takes Adora a moment to remember Catra – or Cyra, and _damn_ does she have some questions about that – is with Juliet right now. Of course Angella’s personal guard is missing. Angella looks at her with concern when she sees where Adora is sitting, maybe still a bit visibly dazed and pale.

“I’m not moving. She told me not to until she gets back,” Adora informs her. Angella looks _more_ confused, sending a look to Bow now, completely skipping over her daughter for her bodyguard. That is fair – Glimmer’s gaze is still a bit _distant_.

“Cyra Gray is an alias. Her real name is Catra,” Bow explains, sending a questioning look towards Adora. Angella is the person in the room with the most parts of the puzzle, but none of them can really understand what is going on, especially when Adora never told anyone what Catra really was to her. She had not understood it enough to verbalize it at the time, anyway, but what she did know she kept to herself.

Angella’s head whips around to Adora, eyes wide. Adora just grins, knowing how stupidly joyful her smile must be. “That’s why we couldn’t find her, I guess,” she explains. She is still a bit lightheaded. Angella’s expression softens.

“As happy as I am for you to be reunited, it is not too late to get you a different bodyguard. You could be friends instead of her employer,” Angella points out. Adora scowls _immediately_.

“I know you said they sent the best they had, but even without that, there is no one else I would more gladly trust my life to. _Neither_ of us would be alive today without the other. You know I was never keen on having a stranger hang over my shoulder anyway,” Adora immediately refutes, sulking a little bit in her chair like the child she never got to be. Angella looks at her for a long moment. Adora sighs. “If Glimmer can have her best friend be her bodyguard why can’t I?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Angella narrows her eyes, but Adora knows she has won. She is _right_. Bow and Glimmer were friends for years before the attempted kidnapping that resulted in Angella getting them _both_ self-defense lessons in case there should be a repeat. Within two years she was offering Bow formal training to become Glimmer’s guard when they were adults. Catra is already clearly trained and Adora _misses_ her.

“I’ll want an explanation of her time away from the home. Juliet assured me that she was skilled, but how she went from missing out of a group home to personal protection is a questionable transition,” Angella tells her, tacit agreement, moving to sit on the couch near Adora’s window. She has nearly a full living room set in her office, supposedly to encourage employee interaction or some bullshit. It is there so they can lay her out on it when she passes out on stressful days and everyone _knows_ that, even the _janitor_.

To be fair, he has walked in on Bow carrying her to the sofa more than once.

“I want to know how Juliet did not find out about the alias. That’s her entire _job_ ,” Glimmer pipes up from behind Adora’s desk. Angella straightens a bit where she sits.

“It is very possible she did know but found it unimportant. Aliases are not entirely uncommon in the security field. If not, it is just a testament to Catra’s personal skills,” Angella reasons. Glimmer does not seem to like that answer, but she falls silent as they wait.

They don’t have to wait much longer. It took Angella awhile to come down to Adora’s office, likely having to finish whatever actual business she was doing before Adora’s entire world shattered and remade itself. There is a polite, rhythmic knock at the door that _sounds_ exactly like Juliet’s coded greeting, but Adora just _knows_.

“Come in, Juliet,” Angella calls, but when Adora turns in her seat she sees Catra opening the door, Juliet standing a few paces behind her and clearly impressed. Adora shoots a glance in Angella’s direction and smiles to herself when she sees her blatant surprise.

Catra and Juliet enter, standing side-by-side, Catra now outfitted with an earpiece. It is different from Juliet’s, it has to be to fit her ear, but Adora does not doubt it is attuned to the same channel. She has no clue, actually, what goes on in Juliet’s and Bow’s earpieces, but it is far from her biggest concern right now. She shoots Catra a hopeful look. Catra is poised and solid where she stands, but her eyes soften when they land on Adora. Adora can see the thought turning in her head, the internal debate taking place.

“I did what you asked,” she points out, hoping to tilt the scales. Catra rolls her eyes, but she starts forward from Juliet’s side. Juliet raises a judging brow at Catra as she passes, but she doesn’t _know_. It seems presumptive to Juliet, probably, that Catra is already taking on duties. Today they were just supposed to _meet_ to see if they could stand each other, but they went flying past that point the moment Adora’s heart fell out of her chest.

Catra offers her a hand and Adora takes it gladly. “ _Slowly_ , Adora,” Catra reminds her. Adora flushes, though she does not know from _what_ , and pulls herself to her feet using Catra’s offered hand slowly. She doesn’t need the help – she is nowhere close to passing out any longer, and she passed _core strength_ into _abs_ territory before she graduated high school – but she takes it anyway just to touch Catra and feel the shift of _her_ muscles beneath her skin, strength clear as she pulls Adora up.

Glimmer stands from Adora’s chair and Catra leads her around the desk to sit where she is actually supposed to. Catra wordlessly takes up a spot behind her left shoulder, stance hardening as she settles in again. Juliet is watching them with a calculating gaze now.

“Juliet, were you aware Cyra Gray is an alias?” Angella questions from the side of the room. Adora feels herself draw in an audible breath as the last name hits her for the first time. She twists in her chair to look at Catra. Catra does not move anything except her eyes, making eye contact with Adora for a moment before she looks away, swallowing. Her ears give a single twitch backward in what Adora has long-known as embarrassment. Her assumption was _right_ and it makes her grin broadly as she settles back in her chair.

“No record of her exists from more than three years ago. I found no traces of her former life, but the assumption was a safe one to make. She informed me she is ex-mercenary when I hired her,” Juliet tells Angella, eyes darting between her and the – admittedly, likely bizarre without context – exchange happening behind Adora’s desk.

 _Ex-mercenary_. It explains a lot – explains why Hordak was taking orphans no one would notice missing for likely violent and illegal work, explains why Catra has changed her name, explains why she holds herself so differently now.

Adora is kind of _used_ to this kind of thing by now. Even without the things she has discovered since Angella let her in on all her research into the disappearance of Adora’s mothers, Juliet herself is ex-mercenary, as are a few others on the security team at Alliance or back on the estate. Adora has heard some stories, and she is more than used to the type by now. It almost eases her, knowing this six-year gap between them is not insurmountable, at least not from her side.

Catra always hated rich kids. Adora wonders how she feels about long-lost heiresses.

“Adora and _Catra_ grew up together. Catra, is your former life going to bring any added danger to Adora should you stay on as her guard?” Angella says, turning to Catra when she is done addressing Juliet. She says her name pointedly - Juliet was in charge of the search for Catra. She knows exactly who she is. Juliet blinks in surprise as Angella's focus shifts to Catra.

“I wasn’t that important,” Catra responds, steady at Adora’s shoulder. Adora wishes she wasn’t standing back there so she would not have to crane her neck back when she talks. She gets that is just where Catra will stand now, and she knows one day she will be able to have a conversation with Catra without having to look over at her just like Glimmer and Bow can, but right now she does not want to take her eyes off of her, not after so long.

Catra seems to understand even without Adora saying _anything_. She takes two steps to the left, moving forward as she does so. She maintains a respectful distance from Adora, but now Adora can see her clearly out of the corner of her eye. It eases some of the tension in Adora’s shoulders, and the consideration makes her chest warm. Catra flicks her tail once in her direction, a silent acknowledgement as she continues to face Angella.

Juliet pauses, gaze considering as she sweeps it over Catra. “Normally we don’t ask this, but if we are going to be trusting you with Adora, I have to. Company name?” Juliet questions. Adora watches the corners of Catra’s eyes tighten. She considers the question for a moment before the tension releases, a hint of sadness in the back of her gaze.

“The Horde. You won’t find anything on them,” she says. Adora would doubt that, but Juliet was not able to find any trace of Catra ever having _existed_ , so she might actually be onto something. Catra sighs, turning her head to look out the window. Adora sees her sweeping her gaze, searching the buildings nearby even as she thinks. “No one outside knew me, and assets are disposable to them. They didn’t care if they lost one of us on a job. If they think I am still alive, they won’t waste resources on me,” Catra assures.

It makes Adora’s chest tight, to hear Catra that dismissive of the value of her own life to someone else, but if it keeps them from chasing after her, she will take it. That is the way it was their entire lives, anyway. Only safe as long as they kept in line and their heads down. Adora got out of that when Angella found out about her – clearly it only grew _worse_ for Catra, but she is out now, standing by Adora’s shoulder.

As much as she is there to keep Adora safe, Adora wants to protect her back. To provide for her, in whatever assets and resources she needs to keep away from all that again. They were always protecting each other, back in the home. Adora was often the one shielding Catra, the one with the power to do so, but she was not blind to how Catra returned the favour or at least _tried_ to even when she did not have the ability.

“I’m keeping her,” Adora cuts in, turning back to Angella. She knows she is getting intense, she can feel her muscles tensing as she grips the arms of her chair and sends Angella a firm look, but she is not backing down on this. Angella asked for an explanation, and she has it now. “I spent five years looking for her. I’m not losing her again,” she adds. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Catra’s ears twitch at the words, her tail curling a bit behind her.

Angella softens a bit, sending Adora an openly affectionate look. “Fine, you can keep her. She will need to go through the same training all the new security personnel do, but after a week she will be your personal guard,” Angella concedes.

Adora is not ashamed of how she cheers, despite the fact that Catra snorts and Glimmer outright laughs at her.

\--

Catra gets home to her temporary motel and nearly collapses. There is no _reason_ too, no physical cause, but despite being able to keep her control in the moment, actually seeing Adora again, seeing Adora’s _reaction_ to her, affected her even more than she thought it would with all her preparation.

Her hands shake at the memory of every glimpse of Adora she had gotten throughout the day as Juliet walked her through security procedures and policies. Catra’s memory is not full eidetic, but her mind has always been sharp, and now she sees flashes of Adora, _new_ Adora, before her eyes as she sits on the corner of her hotel bed.

She has filled out more than the photos did justice. Taller, too, by at least five inches, maybe even six. Catra has grown too, but not nearly that much. Adora doesn’t play sports anymore, not publicly anyway, but she has only built more muscle. In her business suit, a vest and sleeves rolled up proudly displaying her arms, Catra did not spot any new scars on her, but most of their scars they had always carried on their backs.

The way she looked at Catra would have stunned her if she had not been training not to react since the moment a car crash landed her in Shadow's home. Adora looked at Catra like she was a ghost, like she has been hoping to see her walk through that door every day for the last six years, like she was still the sixteen year old who took her hand and said in a quiet whisper, with all the implications the words held, “When we turn eighteen, it will be us, right? Whatever happens, we’ll be together?”

At sixteen years old, Catra had agreed. At twenty three, she still does. But Adora _won’t_ , not when she realizes. _Ex-mercenary_ does not seem to bother her. Catra already clocked a few of the type in the security team, including the head of security, so Adora might be used to the idea by now. _Ex-mercenary_ Adora can be friends with.

And _fuck_ , does Catra want to be friends. Now she has breathed Adora’s air again, she does not know how she made it the last three years in freedom without her. The answer is fear – fear of rejection, fear of hurting her, fear of confirmation of all her darkest thoughts – but now Catra cannot imagine how her heart managed to beat without the lingering traces of Adora’s scent fresh in her mind.

Catra does not know a lot about Adora these last few years. She did a preliminary search, found her college and BA in International Business, but Adora has managed to largely keep herself out of the public view, despite how thoroughly known the Queens are. A healthy amount of paranoia, after Angella’s husband died and Adora’s own parents just vanished without a trace one day. Either tragedy or people like _Catra_ follow the Queens and their money.

Catra will keep them away. Catra will do anything to keep Adora safe now. Adora is not bothered by what she _does_ know, and if Catra does not pursue that implied _further_ from when they were sixteen then she never has to tell Adora what she _doesn’t_. She can make this work. She has to. She needs her. Needs the one person who always grounded her, made her _happy_. Catra can hold herself back. She can let herself have _this much_ without ruining all their memories together. For the first time in a long time, Catra can actually feel her heart beating in her chest from something other than _fear_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catra’s name/alias is a reference to her alias in the original show, C’yra of Driluth.  
> Previously I have posted a chapter every day when I do a multi-chapter fic. That just is not going to happen now the semester has started. I've been posting about it on my tumblr, but I will still try to be posting a chapter every few days. I'd rather take longer and be happy with it.  
> This is the prologue, but I'm going to partition this fic into 2 acts. The first act will be slow burn - the second act _won't_.


	2. ACT I: Move-in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Saturday, Catra moves into Adora's guestroom. This is fine. She can do this. She can be normal about this.  
> (Spoiler: she can't).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lesbians are allergic to sitting in chairs normally and that’s a fact trust me I'm a lesbian and I've never sat up straight in my life.  
> Just a reminder that Adora’s 22 and Catra’s 23 and well past hitting her rock bottom, so we’re dealing with season five catradora here.  
> Like in all my fics, Catra has feline colourblindness and can’t see red. Also, cats are carnivores. Catra can eat other foods, but she has a weaker stomach for them.

Nothing in Catra’s life has ever been _easy_ , but being a part of Adora’s life again is harder than she thought it would be. Old feelings she buried under missing her come to the surface again, even if they take a new form now. She and Adora always clung to each other, dependent on the other to survive in that brutal home. Part of Catra resented being weak like that and needing _help_ like that. She knows she was wrong now, that they were just two scared kids trying their best, but she still feels twinges of resentment when she catches Adora watching her with a sad, distant look in her eyes. Pity and guilt.

Catra does not want pity – it discounts all the work she had to do to get here. It discounts every life she has taken, every night she has woken up screaming but pushed herself out of bed and kept working to make it through the day. It discounts the scar tissue on the back of her neck that she gained in the desperate clawing of her escape. She tries to let the resentment go as best she can when the look makes it surface. Adora knows _none_ of that, and Catra does not ever _want_ her too. She shouldn’t blame her for not knowing what Catra has done when she is purposefully hiding it from her.

The guilt is even worse. The guilt reminds her that Adora does not even know a third of her story, and what she does know is already hurting her. _Catra_ is already hurting her again. It is all she knows how to do, really. Even when she is helping people, keeping them safe, she does it by hurting the people like her who only know how to destroy. Adora does not look at her with that guilt often, but every time she does it makes a metallic taste bloom on her tongue that has no source aside from sense-memory.

The worst part is that when they actually get to speak, rather than just catch sight of each other through office windows, the echoes of _them_ are still there. Adora still reads her better than anyone else, still knows how to make her let her guard down and _laugh_. Catra spends the first week learning protocols under Juliet and being semi-subtly tested, but every time she and Adora are together again, even though they are never _alone_ , Adora still lights up and trips over herself to tease her. It _works_ , it makes Catra’s chest warm in a way it has not been in years. Catra did not think she even knew how to laugh like this anymore – but apparently Adora still knows her well enough to bring it out.

Six years and a body count between them, but Adora still beams at her like sunshine and makes her heart beat faster. Catra cannot wait to finally be alone with her. She also has never dreaded anything more.

\--

Catra walks back into her life on a Monday, and Adora does not get to be alone with her until she officially takes up her full-time role that weekend. Come Saturday morning, Juliet brings Catra to Adora’s house near the edge of Angella’s property. There are a few houses on the estate, but Adora lives in one of the smaller ones. She prefers it this way – it is easier to secure, and she never wanted empty rooms full of ghosts. She has a guest room, she has an office, and she has a gym. It is more than anything she had before, and it is all she needs in her new life of _want_ instead of _need_.

She watches from her gym’s window as Catra walks the property with Juliet. Catra has been wearing suits all week, but in the privacy of the Queens estate she is wearing plain black pants and a dark purple shirt – Adora suspects she has no idea what colour it really is. Catra was never willing to ask for help before, and she doubts she has become _more_ willing to admit vulnerability to a strange sales assistant.

She has been getting used to this new Catra. Catra was such a bright, happy kid before Shadow beat that out of her as best she could. Even then, Catra was still wild and untamed. Now, she is more reserved, quiet until Adora opens her mouth and goads her into being _her_ again, snarky even under the controlled façade. Every time, it seems to startle Catra, causing her to flush and look away with wide eyes. She always looks _back_ though.

Juliet may have found nothing on the Horde so far, but Adora knows a lot just from the change she can see in Catra. She suspects _mercenary_ may be a bit of a misdirect. She does not know what Catra has been doing, but she finds it likely it was not just guns and violence. If it were, she would still be as brash and wild as she has always been. No one would have had the patience to beat that out of her if they just needed her to hold a weapon.

Adora abandons her workout when she sees Juliet and Catra actually starting to make their way towards her front door. She likes to stay in shape, even if she left organized sports behind when she graduated from college. That was never what fueled her in the last few years, anyway. Adora has always been well aware her mothers vanished without a trace, and Catra being taken from her too was the last straw. She may be paranoid, but she needs to keep her body in shape if she ever wants to fall asleep at night in her empty bed.

Six years, and she still misses the comfort of Catra sleeping at her feet. She is not getting that back, not now anyway. Catra will be taking the guest room. Adora gets where Angella was coming from, that first day - about them just being friends, without this worry hanging over their heads - but the fact is, someone would still always be in the background, watching Adora’s back. As much as Adora never wanted to trust a complete stranger to stand over her, she trusts no one more implicitly than Catra, six years and unknown crimes be damned. She smiles brightly as she goes to answer Catra’s careful knock at her door. It is different than Juliet’s, she just knows it is, despite it being the exact same rhythm. Catra raises an eyebrow at her beaming expression as she lets them both in, but amusement sparks behind her eyes.

“I’m going to lead Catra on a security sweep of the house and then I will leave you to it. I know you haven’t really gotten the chance to catch up,” Juliet tells her. Adora nods, trying to school her expression to anything less than beaming as she moves into the living room to wait. She ends up sprawled across the end of her couch, one leg tucked under her as she listens to the sounds of Juliet and Catra moving about the house.

She is familiar with the sounds of Juliet’s sweep, even if she is explaining it as she does it this time. Juliet used to do this just once a week. As Adora and Angella dug deeper into her parents’ disappearance and found suspiciously little, the sweep got updated to every few days. Foul play was a certainty, but it was never actually investigated, shoved aside as two people who got in too deep to something dangerous, despite there being no _evidence_ for that. Law enforcement can be easily overwhelmed, but Angella suspects they were encouraged to drop the case. The theory doesn't _decrease_ Adora's paranoia.

Catra and Juliet make their way back to the living room. Juliet sends Adora a pointed look that she does not quite understand the point _of_ before she bids them farewell and leaves. Adora turns to where Catra stands instantly. Alone with Adora in her house – a _secure location_ , she remembers Catra saying on that first day – the tension is gone from Catra's body. Catra rolls her eyes at Adora’s eagerness, but she crosses the room to flop on the far side of the couch. Adora knows Catra is capable of sitting normally now, she has seen her do it, but apparently with just Adora around, she reverts to the unruly cat that splays her limbs and is just as likely to put her feet on the back of the couch as she is to rest her head there.

Seeing that glimpse down to the old Catra makes Adora’s chest pound. Catra watches her, tail flicking and gaze calculating as she waits. It is up to Adora to make the first move. That is fine - Adora has always been good at diving in headfirst and not thinking twice. All week the most she has dared is to joke like they used to, but there are questions hanging loudly in the silence between them.

“The Cyra thing?” she asks, because the only explanation she got on the first day was it _exists_. It has not really come up again, but Juliet has been with her all week and called her Catra just now. The corner of Catra’s mouth quirks up, an ear flicking and her tail thudding in amusement.

“I was serious about you not using it. It was close enough I thought it would be fine, but I kind of hate it,” Catra tells her, rolling her eyes. Adora breathes a visible sigh of relief that makes Catra laugh, blatantly amused, her eyes dancing just like they used to. The _ease_ of it steels Adora to push onward.

“I tried to find you, after Angella adopted me. We couldn’t find any trace of you even existing,” Adora says, not a question but an obvious prompt. Adora admitted to searching for her on the first day, but Catra’s cheeks flush and her gaze darts away, ears pinning back in her fluster. Catra’s tells are a bit different now, more subtle and harder for Adora to pick up, but she is not trying to hide them right now, when it is just the two of them.

Catra sighs, her ears falling as she makes eye contact with Adora. “We both know the system never gave a shit about any of us, but someone would have noticed an _accounting error_ at the least if there was any record of all those kids going missing from the same home. Shadow wiped any trace of us. None of us legally exist anymore. When I got out, it just made sense to add a layer of protection and change my name for my new identity,” Catra explains. She sounds distantly bitter, like resignation has tinged her down to a tacit acceptance.

Adora is _furious_ , but she is doing her best not to show it. From the dancing light in Catra’s eyes, she knows she fails. She _knows_ the muscles in her arms are popping as she flexes her fists in her effort to contain herself. She borrows a page out of Catra’s book and turns away with a cough, trying to will her body to relax. If Catra is not angry about this, then she has no right to be either.

“The, uh- your new last name,” she asks when she turns back, smooth and completely collected. She is blushing, but so is Catra, so she lets herself have this. Catra is flustered, looking quickly away, her nerves obvious. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself, before she turns back to her, eyeing Adora carefully.

“After everything that happened, I didn’t want to drag you into that kind of life. Into perimeter sweeps and skeletons in the closet,” Adora raises an eyebrow and Catra rolls her eyes, “I _assumed_ you had aged out of the home peacefully and scraped some kind of life together. I missed the hell out of you, but I wasn’t going to ruin your life by showing back up,” Catra explains. Adora makes a sound she _knows_ is wounded. It is completely involuntary and makes Catra’s gaze snap to hers, eyes wide and just a touch _hopeful_.

“Catra, we may have been kids, but I fucking meant it when I said I wanted it to always be _us_. I’ve been missing you every damn day,” Adora shoots back. Catra’s ears pin to her head, her eyes going wide. Tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She looks away quickly, squeezing them shut and clearly struggling to get her breathing under control.

“Don’t be so quick with your promises, Adora. I’m not the same girl you missed,” Catra tells her, voice rough and eyes still closed, like she is afraid of seeing Adora’s reaction. Adora frowns. She knows that, it is not a secret how much they both have changed, but it does not matter, not with all the history between them. They can make the pieces of them fit together again, if Catra wants to try.

“And I’m not the same, either. It doesn’t matter. You may be _different_ , but you are still _you_ ,” Catra opens her eyes, looking at her with obvious disbelief, maybe even _distrust,_ so Adora just keeps going, “The right corner of your mouth still twitches down when you get hit with bright light. You still have to suppress a growl when someone wearing perfume walks by. You still find it funny when you see someone trip, even if you don’t laugh out loud at them. You may not pin your ears back anymore, but I see that _twitch_ and I know what it means. I _know you_ , Catra,” Adora lists off. Catra’s eyes grow wide with shock as Adora works her way through her observations from the last week.

Catra stares at her for several long moments before her tail begins to sweep back and forth, slow and _hopeful_. Her eyes are still wide, but her ears have pricked back up. “I’m going to need you to make me a list of my tells,” she says, humour creeping into her voice as an actual smile graces her face now. Adora feels a wave of relief hit her chest like a sucker punch.

“Never. You’re hard enough to read as it is,” Adora fires back, but she feels herself slip just a little further down the couch as the tension in her body releases. They may be _different_ , but they are going to be okay. Catra shakes her head, that smile that is Adora’s oxygen right now still on her face. She does not push the point further, apparently content to just watch Adora. They used to just spend time together, doing nothing aside from breathing the other’s air, but this feels different. Appraising.

“So, corporate America princess – how did that happen?” Catra asks, tone teasing. She still sounds a bit trepidatious. Adora startles, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at Catra.

“Princess?” she questions, raising an eyebrow at Catra. Catra _grins_ at her, all fangs and implied danger. Adora feels herself blush, her heart going just a little too fast.

“You’re the damn closest thing there is in this country. Tell the story, princess,” she replies. Adora knows her flush spills down her neck at the name. She can tell from the way Catra’s ears prick forward, eyes bright, that she just doomed herself. She sighs, trying to will her reaction down, and shrugs.

“My mother, Hope, she was Angella’s sister. She left the family to run away with Mara. Angella’s parents disowned her, and Hope didn’t want Angella to get in trouble because of _her_ leaving. She froze Angella out whenever she tried to make contact and eventually Angella gave up. She didn’t even know Hope was dead until she tried to reconnect with her again when I was seventeen,” Adora explains, waving her hands a bit nervously as she talks. Catra just nods, absorbing all this information _far_ more calmly than Adora had when an armoured car pulled up outside of Shadow’s home unannounced.

Adora had practically run forward, certain it was something to do with Hordak and wanting to go wherever the hell Catra was. Then Angella had stepped out, Glimmer and guards trailing behind her. She looked nothing like someone who would associate with Hordak, but the armed guards begged to differ. Adora had been shocked when Angella’s eyes found her and she looked like she was going to _cry_.

“Angella adopted me as soon as she found out I existed. She has been grooming me to help Glimmer with the family business ever since. We- still don’t know what happened to Mara and Hope, but you know that story already,” Adora finishes, watching Catra carefully. There is a lot more to the story than Adora had known then, but the result is the same: her mothers left work, and they never picked her up from daycare. No one ever saw them again, and Adora ended up in Shadow’s home when she could barely walk.

Catra just nods, eyes understanding. Adora was worried she might be bitter about how Adora has been living in the lap of luxury on an _estate_ while she was clearly fighting for a living. The Catra she knew at sixteen would have been. She always hated how Adora was Shadow’s favourite – she thought _special treatment_ would certainly extend to this. Now, she seems unbothered by it. Adora _is_ though. She looks down at her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. She has waited six years to say those words. She sees Catra startle out of the corner of her eye and risks glancing up. Catra looks blatantly surprised and confused.

“What the hell are you sorry for?” she asks, brow creasing and sounding _annoyed_. Adora frowns.

“For breaking our promise? We were supposed to look out for each other, and you got taken because I was playing a fucking _football_ _game_. I should have been there to-“ Adora’s internalized rant of self-loathing is _long_ and she has never voiced it before, not over this. She has it memorized, back to front, finds it confronting her when she wakes from nightmares late at night or when her mind is blank in the shower. She could not protect Catra, she could not even _find_ Catra, and for all she knew it had cost Catra her _life_.

Catra cuts off the rant before Adora can get through the _opener_. “Adora,” she snaps, voice and eyes hard. Adora startles, chest feeling like it is collapsing as she swallows around the dagger in her throat. Catra hesitates, and then she is leaning forward, crawling up the length of the couch to approach Adora. Adora watches numbly, not daring to move as Catra prowls towards her on all fours. Catra cautiously settles before her, mouth twisted with bitterness. Adora is facing her, Catra mere inches from touching her as she reaches for her hand, squeezing at it harshly.

“Let’s settle one thing now: You never could have done a fucking thing to protect me from the Horde. Hordak was just the person in charge. He was not the most dangerous person there, and one sixteen-year-old was never going to stop even _him_ ,” Catra tells her, glaring down at where she is clutching her hand with white knuckles. Her voice is laced with that bitterness Adora expected, but she is not actually sure who the resentment is directed at.

“I don’t need your guilt. I don’t want you to think of me as the- the fucking _kitten_ you lost then. I don’t _want_ you to be sorry. It happened. There was nothing you could do, and I made it on my own,” she says, all anger and resentment even as she strains forward a little, wavering before Adora. “If you want us to make this work, you need to let that go. I’m the one walking around with the scars from it.”

Adora is silent for a long moment. It hurts to hear, to know. Ever since she found her again, a small part of Adora has been terrified that the real reason Catra stayed away was that she hated Adora for it as much as Adora hates herself over it. Adora does not let things go, and Catra _knows_ that, but she has to trust this is what Catra actually wants her to do. Trusting each other was kind of their whole _thing_ before.

Adora lets her eyes fall closed, releasing a shaking breath she tells herself lets the self-loathing go with it, a visualization technique from when Angella used to make her go to therapy. She nods, opening her eyes to find Catra still looking down at their hands, but from the way her gaze softens Adora knows she saw the motion. Her grip is still fiercely tight. It will take Adora time to accept, really, but if Adora is going to do this, to _let this go_ for Catra, then she has a confession she has to make first.

“I tried to be next,” she admits in a whisper. She watches Catra stiffen, eyes snapping to hers, but she doesn’t stop. “The next time he came. Shadow had to lock me in the laundry room to get me away from him. She gave me lashes for disobeying her. I didn’t give a shit. I would have done it the next time he came too if Angella had not shown up first,” her voice is rough. She has never told anyone this, never admitted how ready she was to accept any fate if it meant she might see Catra again, might be too late to ever see her again but would at least know what happened to her.

“You noble _idiot_ ,” Catra hisses, _glaring_ at her. There is real anger in her voice, but Adora just laughs to herself, shaking her head and squeezing her hand.

“Yeah. Yours, though,” she promises her. Catra stills, her hand going stiff in Adora’s grip. A moment later she is pulling away. Adora tries not to let her heartbreak show on her face. The set of Catra’s brow tells her she does not succeed. Catra’s face is unreadable as she moves to sit back from her, more than just a few inches between them now. She looks obviously pained, but beyond that Adora does not know why she pulled away, why she is refusing to touch her unless she went _too far_.

“You took my last name, Catra. I thought- we were okay,” she tries, knowing the desperation is leaking into her voice. Even if Adora did not understand how deep it ran back then, their feelings were never really a secret. They were always each other’s, whatever that would end up meaning when they were finally eighteen. She does not expect them to just pick up where they were, but she thought Catra would still share the sentiment, even if she does not feel it the same way Adora does.

Catra sighs, turning her head away. They really aren’t okay. Shit.

Her tail sweeps towards Adora as her panic attack starts, crossing the gap between them to curl around Adora’s wrist. Adora releases a breath shaking with relief and turns her hand to stroke along her tail as it trails towards her arm. Catra hunches a little where she sits, but she looks up to make eye contact again.

“We are okay. But I can't-" Catra cuts off, closing her eyes briefly before she can force herself to start again, "I don’t want to hurt you, Adora. I need time to learn how to do this again,” Catra tells her in a whisper, motioning between them. Adora’s chest feels tight. She has to blink her eyes quickly to force back her body’s reaction, but she nods. Catra winces, looking down at where her tail is still in Adora’s hand. All Adora wants to say is _we could learn together_ , but she is not going to pressure Catra.

“Okay. I’ll give you space for as long as you need. I just want you to be here again,” Adora tells her, despite how it is utter lies. She _is_ going to give Catra the space she needs, but it is _not_ okay. All Adora wants is everything they wanted together in high school, but it does not matter what she wants – this is what Catra _needs_ , what she asked for. If Adora wants them to ever be _anything_ , ever be real friends again, she has to respect her wishes and wait for Catra to be comfortable with her. Especially with everything else Adora feels for her lurking in the background.

Tension leaks out of Catra’s shoulders at her words. It is enough for Adora to breathe again, and enough for Catra to look up at her. “I’m not leaving. I don’t trust anyone else to keep you safe,” Catra breathes like a confession. Adora swallows thickly, nodding. Catra _cares_ just like she always has, despite the barriers she is putting up. Catra has always had walls. Apparently she has gained a few more since they were last together. Catra’s affection was hard-won and hard- _lost_. Getting her to admit any of it, however, was a challenge. Catra was always a challenge, one Adora loved tackling. Adora is going to give her what she needs right now, but she is far from _giving up_.

Maybe Catra sees it on her face. Her eyes soften as she looks away, standing slowly and leaving Adora alone on the couch. She pauses, but ultimately says nothing before she walks away, disappearing into the hallway to upstairs. Adora watches her go with a feeling of cold loss spreading through her.

 _I’m not leaving_. She is going to have to hold onto that one closely. She already knows this is not going to be the first time Catra runs. Adora is still going to keep chasing.

\--

Adora eases off her, for the rest of the day. She lets Catra settle into her room, although she insists on carrying the trunk of Catra’s things up to her room when it finishes being checked by the security team and is dropped at her front door. Catra rolls her eyes and calls her a showoff, and Adora smiles at her bright and easy, clearly not _too_ deterred by Catra’s earlier words despite the space she is now giving her.

Despite the heaviness between them, there is still nowhere Catra would rather be than Adora’s guestroom. Catra feels twisting worry in her gut after running, despite how _okay_ Adora was acting when she helped her bring her stuff in. Adora has always been good at pushing down when she is hurt for the sake of others. Catra still can’t bring herself to seek her out. She needs to keep this distance between them if she does not want to lose Adora entirely.

Catra struggles, even hidden away in the guest room, with just how _much_ of Adora there is here. Her scent is everywhere, easing Catra’s anxiety but setting her nerves on edge at the same time. It has been a long time since she has felt so overwhelmed by anything but anger. She tracks Adora’s movement around the house by sound and scent as she unpacks, and when Adora retreats into her office, Catra slips from her own room and finds her way into Adora’s gym.

She is not quiet – a quiet workout _isn’t a workout_ , and especially not one that will sooth the itch beneath her fur – but Adora does not follow her, at least not at first. That only lasts for one rep cycle. Adora leaves her office and ducks into her bedroom down the hall. She lingers there for a few moments before Catra hears her coming down the stairs. It is too late to slip away, so Catra does not stop her routine, merely shifting to keep her back to the door.

Adora is silent for a moment when she enters. Catra does not turn around, waiting. Eventually, Adora sighs at her lack of acknowledgement. “I usually do a morning and evening workout on the weekends,” Adora tells her. Catra merely grunts in response. She knows this, she has memorized Adora’s general schedule and daily routine. It is a basic part of the job. “Is it okay if I join you? We don’t have to talk,” Adora finally adds. Catra actually does pause now, sighing as she turns to see Adora standing hesitantly near the door. Despite how she has already changed into athletic wear, she looks blatantly nervous of overstepping.

“It’s _your_ gym, Adora,” she points out, raising an eyebrow. Adora opens her mouth, clearly preparing to argue, but Catra just turns around and resumes. It was a dismissive deflection, an open invitation, a _please_ even, but Adora has always been bad at decoding when Catra says something contradictory to what she actually wants. As much as they could read each other like a second language, they struggled to communicate with their _first_ one sometimes. Mostly because Catra was born to be difficult, but she is pretty sure that is what Adora liked about her, anyway.

Adora hovers a moment more before she moves into the space, beginning her own circuit. Core and arm strength, Catra observes out of the corner of her eye. Despite how overwhelmed she has been feeling, working her body has always eased her nerves, and this is _exactly_ the kind of interaction Catra wants now. To just be together, without fumbling conversation or Adora's misplaced guilt between them.

Despite Adora’s initial awkwardness, the tension in the air dissipates as they both move around the room. It is the largest room in the house, a variety of equipment spread around it, so there is no need for them to be close, but they still stay in the same general area as each other. They watch each other, entirely unsubtle but both unwilling to break the peaceful silence of just co-existing.

At least until Adora squares up with her punching bag. Her form is not wrong, it is actually _perfect_ , but that is kind of the problem. “You’re too stiff, you telegraph every move, and you wouldn’t last thirty seconds in a fight,” Catra deconstructs, standing behind her and crossing her arms. Adora, like the idiot she has always been, turns to her and _grins_.

“Then show me,” she says, and Catra flushes. It is a terrible idea, but she also can’t say _no_ and have Adora running into a fight like this. So she shows her, trying just to demonstrate it properly herself, but of course it is not enough for Adora. Catra has to physically correct her when she tries it again, repositioning her and feeling the flex of her muscles beneath her skin as she does so.

Adora is doing it _on purpose_ , Catra swears. She blatantly invites Catra to touch her, testing boundaries and opening doors even after Catra told her to keep them closed. Catra still takes the invitation. She shouldn’t, but she _wants_ to. And besides, Adora needs to be able to fight better than this. It is _disgraceful_.

“ _Rogelio_ could beat you in a fight, Adora. _Rogelio_. You have all this strength and no idea how to use it,” Catra admonishes when Adora throws another perfect-form punch _anyone_ could see coming. Adora scowls at her, but her cheeks are flushed with the excitement and exertion.

“I’ve done fine in my street scraps,” she says. Catra opens her mouth, because she has _questions_ , and then closes it when she catches the way Adora is beaming at her, _inviting_ her to ask. Catra narrows her eyes at her.

“Who taught you how to fight?” she asks instead, because she may have been untrained herself then, but she is _certain_ Adora used to be better than this when they were all just trying to survive in the home. Adora pouts just a little at Catra purposefully dodging her leading question. Either she was trying to open up to Catra and endear her way into her heart, or she was trying to turn it around and get _Catra_ to open up to her. The first is entirely unnecessary considering Adora has _always_ lived in the space between her ribs, and the second one is a dangerous abyss to start falling into.

“A boxer. Taught me self defense to get out of kidnapping attempts and bar fights, because, well, I’d already been in three _sober_ ,” Adora answers, leaning back against the wall of the gym and crossing her arms. She raises her eyebrow, waiting. Catra _scoffs_.

“I was trained by a hybrid who specialized in _extraction_ , and you don’t want to know what _kind_. Those moves will work on maybe the below-average creep and the above-average drunk. If a Horde operative got the drop on you, they would have you on the ground in seconds. I know that is the point to me being here, but we _need_ to train you better,” Catra counters, crossing her own arms in a challenge and waiting.

She is not surprised when Adora _grins_ in response. “Then when do we start, mighty Horde operative?” she asks.

Catra feels her tail twitch. She _shouldn’t do this_.

“Do you have a place with proper mats around here somewhere?” she asks instead of turning away. Adora beams.

“Full gym with a sparring area up in the main house. I usually walk up there after breakfast on Sundays anyway,” Adora tells her.

Catra sighs. “Fine. Tomorrow,” she agrees. Adora cheers, because she _does that_ , like an absolute _dork_. Catra rolls her eyes, turning away to resume her workout, but she is well aware her heart is beating too fast.

\--

Adora is kind of ecstatic after the gym. She was worried after Catra ran that morning, and after Catra continued to hide for the rest of the day, but clearly they can still be _them_. It emboldens her enough to actually knock on Catra's door come dinner time. Catra answers with a raised eyebrow. The guest room looks exactly the same as when Adora brought Catra's trunk up to it, except the trunk is open and empty now. Whatever was in it has all been hidden away out of sight.

"I normally have dinner with Angella and Glimmer on the weekends, but I don't really feel like walking up the drive tonight. I was going to fix something quick. Probably chicken? I didn't know if you would want some," Adora tells her, bouncing just a little on her heels. She does not know what Catra likes to eat anymore, but she knows it has always been safest for her to stick with protein. Adora does not give a shit about what dinner is as long as Catra is there - by _choice_. If Adora went up to Angella's house for dinner, Catra would be obligated to follow her as her guard. If they stay in Adora's house, already secured for the night, then Catra is free to wander separate from her however she likes. Staying gives her the option of _space_.

Catra pauses, looking at her appraisingly. She seems hesitant, looking away as she thinks it over, but after a moment she shakes her head. Adora feels her feet hit the ground as she stops her nervous bouncing, but then Catra speaks. "Sure. I'll be down in a few," she agrees, looking at Adora carefully. Adora blinks at her in surprise, and Catra rolls her eyes. Whatever she was shaking her head about, it was some internal debate.

"Okay," she acknowledges, a little too bright and happy if the way Catra flushes is any indication. Adora throws her a smile before she retreats to the kitchen to get started.

\--

Dinner is not as awkward as she thought it would be. She waited several minutes to come down, until she could hear the sizzling of a skillet already going, but when she slips into the kitchen Adora just grins at her broadly and motions towards the dining table. Adora has _two_ of them, some rich people bullshit where one is formal, just off from the kitchen, and the other is inside of a nook off to the side of the kitchen itself, surrounded by bay windows. A dining in nature feel, if there were not automatic shutters locked over every window now night has fallen. Catra settles in one of the chairs in the nook, eyeing Adora as she hovers around the stove.

"Do you want help?" she asks, because she remembers Adora's attempts to cook back in the home. She quickly got herself pulled off the dinner duty rotation. Adora looks over her shoulder to throw her a wry smile, clearly remembering the same thing.

"I can cook _some_ things now. But please don't test that by distracting me," Adora acknowledges, turning back to the skillet. Catra lets out a sigh of relief - at the fact she _probably_ won't be eating a burnt mess, but also at the easy out Adora gives her. She really is trying to be true to her word, even if most people's idea of _giving space_ is not inviting someone to dinner, Adora's _is_. Adora has always been a lot, intense and a touch overbearing. Catra always reveled in being the focus of that attention, but it was also a bit like looking at the sun. Adora is trying to ease off from _Adora_ level to just _normal overbearing_. Catra can work with that.

It is nice, just watching Adora exist in her space, directing that _intensity_ at the skillet as if she can glare it into not burning her meal. When it is ready, Adora beams as she approaches Catra with it. Catra is shocked to find it is actually _good_. She is no five-star chef - Catra has actually experienced those now, and she is sure Adora has too - but it is not just merely edible and actually has a depth of flavour. Catra is shocked to find a small rumble roll through her when she takes her second bite. Adora hears it, eyes snapping to her, wide and sparkling.

"You had better take that as the only compliment you're getting. I'm not stroking your ego," Catra tells her, rolling her eyes to cut her blush _some_. She thought she had better control of her body's reactions than this, but she did not even feel that one coming. Adora beams at her, blatant happiness cutting her smugness. The purr seems to have surprised her as much as it surprised Catra.

They eat in silence after that. Adora seems to have gotten the victory she was looking for, and Catra is spiraling into thoughts about how thoroughly fucked she is if _Adora's_ cooking can break down her barriers with no warning. When dinner is done, she sticks around just long enough to clean off her dishes and then flees for her room again.

"We're training tomorrow, right?" Adora asks her as she leaves. Catra pauses, turning to nod at her and see the relief in Adora's eyes before she continues on. When she makes it to her room, she closes the door behind her and releases a shaking breath. Her room still smells distantly of Adora. Her stomach is warm with Adora's actually-decent cooking. Her heart is stuttering from the blatant affection on Adora's face when she heard Catra's purr.

Catra growls to herself and changes into her night clothes, crawling into her bed despite how she won't go to sleep until she hears Adora retreat to her own bedroom. She tries to clear her head, burying her face in the sheets as if it helps block out Adora's scent lingering on her skin from the gym. It is hard to clear her head of Adora when she is still listening for her, tracking her movement about the house.

Adora is trying so hard for her, and it is only making Catra panic internally even more. She still cares so much, still _thinks_ she loves Catra like she used to, but Catra knows who she is now, and it is not someone Adora could love. Seeing how much Adora is willing to do for her has her afraid - afraid of getting used to it, afraid of losing it, afraid of _giving in_ to it. She tried to put up as many walls as she could, but walls have never meant shit when it came to Adora anyway. She always charged through them headfirst, shattering any barrier Catra erected and making her home in her heart.

Eventually, as Catra silently panics in her bed, she hears Adora make her way back up the stairs and to her own room. Catra breathes a sigh of relief when she hears Adora's closet door open, listening to the sounds of movement going silent down the hall as Adora goes to bed. Catra can finally turn off her hyper-alertness, but there is nothing she can do to tune out _Adora_.

She doesn't expect to fall asleep, not quickly at least. Her nerves are frayed, and though that exhausts her, it usually also sets her too much on edge for her to sleep quickly. Despite being the _source_ of her anxiety, Adora's scent around her soothes her, and Catra finds herself slipping into sleep easily.

When she wakes in the morning, she is shocked to find she does not remember having any nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I completely forgot to mention this when I posted the prologue at like, uhhhhh, midnight, but I was initially inspired to do a bodyguard au by [this art!](https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/628979384430264320/illustraice-me-i-dont-rlly-have-a-catradora) Obviously this is not that AU, but it did get my mind thinking down that path so I want to acknowledge it! I would edit it onto the prologue, but anyone who has already read that would miss it then.


	3. ACT I: The Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra discovers Adora doesn’t have a life.  
> Adora discovers Catra in her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They’re such useless fucking jocks afdsgsfdjs

She had multiple reasons for asking Catra to train her. She is not too ashamed to admit watching Catra go at the bag was _hot_ , seeing the controlled flex of her muscles beneath her skin, hearing the soft grunts she released with each hit, watching her _beat the utter shit_ out it.

Adora also _does_ need to be able to fight. She has held her own before, but she trusts Catra on this, and she wants to be able to really defend herself if she has to. Adora has spent too many hours staring at crime scene photos of a half-spotless apartment to be comfortable just walking through life assuming she will be fine. If it was not for the knowledge Catra is just a wall away, she would have struggled to sleep on Saturday night, having that confirmation from Catra that she could not stand on her own.

She likes to fight, anyway, always has. It comes from that place, she thinks, from the way they grew up. They were always fighting – each other for the one blanket without any holes, on the playground when school bullies tried to pick on the ragtag foster kids, and Shadow herself whenever she caught them doing something against her rules. Adora may have walked out of that place with only the occasional switch scar, lucky compared to every other kid there, but she still fought Shadow _verbally_ at least to get her to ease off the other kids. Off Catra.

It is also a chance to be close to Catra again, to touch her and wrestle like they used to. She doesn’t doubt Catra will gently knock the shit out of her first and insist she concentrate, but _after_ they might get to just be them. Besides, Adora has _suspicions_ , and what Catra knows and how she teaches it could tell her a lot of the things Catra is not willing to say.

She forgoes her morning workout after breakfast, sending Catra a hopeful look until Catra rolls her eyes and rises from the breakfast nook. She seems to like it there, surrounded on three sides by bay windows and practically in nature without having to _deal_ with nature. She was perfectly content to curl up there as Adora fixed breakfast and they ate in silence, anyway. Adora hates to interrupt it, but she can also only be still for so long.

“Tight clothes. Nothing that catches, and something with at least short sleeves. I don’t know why everything you wear is sleeveless, but you’re going to get rubber burn on your shoulders when your ass ends up on the mat,” Catra tells her, rolling her eyes as she goes to her own room to change.

“Hey!” Adora calls after her, only performatively indignant. Her ass is _definitely_ going to end up on the mat, but it is _Catra_ , so she does not feel bad about it. At least not preemptively. She will see how she feels once the bruises start forming.

Catra has been noticing her arms, also. Adora pretends that does not stroke her ego, but she is a bad liar. Her wardrobe is the way it is because she likes to see her scars as much as she likes to show off her muscles, but suddenly the latter has become far more important, and not just because she has plenty of _proof_ of Catra’s existence now.

Adora fights the urge to grab a tank top just to be indignant, but also because she really does not own much athleticwear with sleeves. She ends up in a sports bra and a t-shirt from high school. When she meets Catra in the hallway, she raises an eyebrow at Adora despite the way she is wearing a tank top and leggings herself.

“You don’t own any athletic wear that has sleeves, do you?” she asks as they start down the stairs. Adora looks determinedly ahead as she grabs her key ring.

“They’re in the wash,” she responds, because she is sure she owns _one_ , even if she couldn’t find it. Catra outright laughs at her as they make their way out of the house. The estate is big enough it might be valid to drive up to the main house, but she always walks it unless it is raining. Besides, it is a good warm-up.

“You’re such a _jock_ ,” Catra snickers at her, walking side-by-side with Adora. It should not make her heart tighten to just look to her right and see Catra there, but she was a part of her life for so long, and then _missing_ from it for so long, it feels almost like walking into a flashback to have her by her side again.

Adora pulls herself out of her reverie when Catra side-eyes her at her lack of comeback. “Who has been threatening to beat the shit out of me since last night, again?” Adora reminds her. Catra _smiles_ , smug and easy.

“It was a warning, not a threat, _princess_. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft,” Catra goads. Adora releases an indignant squawk, reaching for Catra without thinking about it. This would _always_ result in a headlock back in the home. She only has a half-second to panic at _too far_ before Catra is laughing and dodging away, taking off running ahead of her. Adora takes a second to catch her breath and feel the relief before she goes after her.

“Come back here, you little shit!”

\--

As nervous as she is to do this, Adora makes it easier. She falls for Catra’s bait _immediately_ , and until they approach the gleaming windows of the main house, it is almost like when they are just the same brats from high school again. Catra is careful to pace herself, staying just ahead of Adora until they reach the main drive. When they reach it, she leaps up a retaining wall and smirks down at Adora as she glares up at her.

“Are you ready to actually work now?” she asks, lounging across the top of the wall. Adora could absolutely get up here with her, but she would have to jump to do it, and it would be entirely inelegant. Catra would be gone before she could finish climbing up. They both know this, so Adora stays on the ground and rolls her eyes at her.

“You think you’re such hot shit,” Adora responds, raising a hand up to her in an obvious _come down_ gesture despite how they both know Catra won’t take the offered hand even if she decides to heed the request.

The open space of the estate’s lawn is making her fur itch a little, so she rolls her eyes and hops down by Adora’s side. “You _swooned_ when you first saw me,” she points out, throwing Adora a smirk. Adora flushes with embarrassment. She huffs to cover it, but it does not work in the slightest. Catra grins at her back when Adora starts up the drive again.

“It was from _shock_ ,” she argues. Catra is not buying it. She snorts at her back but drops the subject. It was a dangerous joke to make, anyway. She can’t expect Adora to respect a line she violates herself. She stays silent as they make their way to the front door and Adora keys them into the building. Catra can do it too, but Adora reaches to do it immediately, and she beams when she opens the door and holds it for Catra.

“You know I’m supposed to do that for you,” Catra points out as she slinks through the door anyway. Adora is not going to let her, not after she is already holding it open, and Catra would rather they actually get them inside than insist on arguing the point right now. Adora rolls her eyes.

“You know I don’t _care_. We’re at home. I can hardly manage to follow manner rules at work,” Adora returns. Catra would point out it is a safety issue to leave Adora alone in the open and that is her whole _job_ , but she knows Adora would just once again point out that they are at the estate.

Catra has killed eight people in their supposedly secure homes. She knows safety is only ever a construct. She does not need to worry Adora with that information, though. She is here for the explicit reason of Adora not having to worry about anything from that world. She stays silent as Adora leads them through the spotless, lifeless halls to the full-on _gymnasium_ contained in the west wing.

Catra has been in a lot of opulent places as someone’s shadow, either hunting or guarding them, but the Queens estate has a _money so old it comes from when America was called the New World_ vibe that outdoes everywhere she has been in a very particular way. The house’s exterior is designed as if it predates electricity – and Catra knows it _does_ \- but even with its age, the hallways are wide, ceilings sweeping, and every floor tile is in immaculate shape.

It is odd to see Adora move through the halls with familiarity. Catra has gotten used to pretending places like this don’t bother her, but it has always been an act. Then again, apparently Adora was _born_ for this. That is still a weird thought. Adora was always the golden child to Shadow, the popular star player at school, but when it was just the two of them, Adora was any other human except for the fact she was _Adora_. Adora was not special by any kind of provenance, she just _was_.

Apparently, there was plenty of _provenance_ neither of them were aware of. Catra has never been in a place that screams _provenance_ more than an estate with a gymnasium as big as a _house_.

“It’s pretty well equipped, so the security staff can use it to keep in shape. I use it on the weekends sometimes,” Adora tells her as she, once again, holds the door open for Catra. Catra does not bother to protest this time. She just rolls her eyes at Adora and continues on inside, not bothering to pause once she sweeps the area and realizes they have the room to themselves.

Adora hurries to catch up, taking a few steps ahead to direct her to the sparring area. It is a necessary set up if the estate security wants to stay sharp, but Catra is still grateful for how well-padded it is. She learned on concrete floors with the occasional rug thrown down – she _knows_ the difference a mat makes. As much as she wants Adora to be able to fight, the last thing she wants to do is hurt her.

They don’t need a warm-up, considering the run up to the house. Catra directs Adora through a few of her stretches with her, but then they go straight into squaring up. Catra waits for Adora to make the first move, and she sees it coming before Adora even starts to move. She dodges easily, sweeping a leg under her and using her tail to wrap around Adora’s wrist. Normally she would pull _down_ , bringing her target heavy to the ground, but this time she pulls up, trying to slow the descent a little as Adora ends up flat on her back, blinking up at her in surprise.

“Okay,” she breathes. It is all she needs to say to make an obvious concession. Catra smirks down at her.

“I told you that you telegraph every move. You shouldn’t _think_ in a fight, it slows you down and gives you away. You know some moves, you just need a few more and the muscle memory to actually employ them,” Catra tells her, reaching down for her. Catra would never take a hand offered to her from on the ground, but Adora takes it easily, blinking up at her and flushing despite how they have barely started. The quick descent to the floor clearly affected her. Catra is going to have to be more careful.

“Teach me,” Adora agrees, smiling cautiously at her despite how she has already asked and Catra already _agreed_. She had known it would need to be an ongoing thing from the moment she saw Adora approach the punching bag. Apparently Adora didn’t.

“That’s why we’re here, dumbass. Now square up. You’re going to mirror me until it feels familiar or you can’t move your arms,” Catra orders, stepping back. Adora beams at her and follows orders.

\--

Even the mock-fighting they are doing is _exhilarating_ with Catra. Adora is able to push her reactions down under her concentration – compartmentalization and ignoring her own body is kind of her whole _thing_ – but if she thought watching Catra with the punching bag was hot, feeling her move around her is on a whole other level.

As much as she doesn’t want to, she eventually has to call it before she gets _too obvious_. Not that she thinks her attraction to Catra was ever a _secret_ , but it is the furthest thing from _giving her space_ there is. Catra seems a bit relieved when Adora calls it. Adora raises an eyebrow at her and Catra scoffs.

“You have work tomorrow. I don’t need Juliet asking me why you’re too stiff to walk,” she tells her. Adora is grateful that Catra is walking behind her as they head back, because she feels her face heat at her words. Catra does not mean it that way, but with how worked up Adora is feeling, her mind can go exactly nowhere but the _gutter_.

They make their way back to Adora’s house, passing a member of the staff that Adora waves brightly to but no one else. Despite the workout, Adora still feels plenty worked up from Catra’s presence, from her touch, from the absolute electricity of being in such proximity with her again. She throws herself onto her couch as soon as they get back, turning on her TV. She is determined to just turn her brain off, forcing these thoughts _away_.

Then Catra vaults the back of the couch to land beside her. There is at least a foot between them, but _still_. Adora tosses her the remote if only so Catra will focus on the TV instead of noticing her reaction.

“I don’t have anything recorded, but pick whatever channel you want. Or the on-demand stuff,” Adora tells her, voice steady despite the way her heart is still pounding. To her surprise, Catra hesitates and then holds the remote back out to her.

“You’re the one who turned it on. I don’t mind whatever,” Catra tells her, not making eye contact as she holds it out to her. She keeps her eyes determinedly fixed on the TV, playing some cooking channel Adora was probably falling asleep to after her night terrors woke her again. Adora blatantly stares at Catra in her shock.

“You would never give up the remote. You had all those terrible D-list, made-for-TV films you liked to watch and mock,” Adora reminds her. Catra flushes a little, ears twitching as she shrugs. She does not stop holding the remote out.

“I had to get less picky. I’ve been stuck with what my clients like. I’m used to just about anything now. I don’t care anymore,” Catra tells her. She still isn’t looking at her – she is still _lying_. Adora narrows her eyes at Catra, taking the remote from her. At least the weirdness has made Adora capable of brushing Catra’s hand without sparks shooting through her.

Adora determinedly flips the TV to the nature channel and watches Catra’s reaction. To her surprise, she gets _nothing_. Catra always hated nature documentaries as a kid, hated when the humans in their school would take the things they learned from them and automatically extend them to the hybrids in their class without any mind for sensitivity or even science. Adora sighs, muting the TV and turning towards Catra. Catra narrows her eyes at the shot of the savannah and does not acknowledge Adora in any way.

“You _know_ I only ever watched TV to make fun of it with you. Why won’t you pick?” she asks. Catra _sulks_ , like an absolute child, crossing her arms and turning to look as far away from Adora as she can.

“I haven’t watched TV in six years. I don't get anything from it anymore. Happy? I work, or I take care of my body, or I sleep. That’s all I do now. That’s why I said I don’t know how to _do this_ anymore,” Catra relents in a huff. She doesn’t turn back to Adora as Adora stares at the back of her head, realization hitting her like a daybreak. Catra’s tail twitches with jerky movements as she waits. “Well? Have we had our emotional couch talk for the day?” she asks, clearly trying to sound annoyed. Actually, she is definitely annoyed at having to admit something, but her nerves are obvious too.

Adora’s realization hardens into resolve. “Yeah, we have,” Adora breathes in agreement, rising from the couch and walking towards her console table to collect her keys. When she turns back around, Catra is staring at her, tension eased a little by her confusion. “Come on. We’re going out,” Adora tells her.

Catra rises from the couch slowly, pausing to turn the TV off and then eye Adora. “Where are we going?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. She looks _suspicious_.

“It’s a surprise. What we’re wearing is fine, don’t worry,” Adora tells her, turning to head for the front door before she can protest again. Catra is clearly reluctant, but she has no choice but to follow.

\--

“It kind of interferes with my ability to guard if I don’t know where we’re going,” Catra points out on the drive. Adora takes them down a series of roads until they end up on a long backroad lined with woods on either side.

“You’re adaptable. You’ll be fine,” Adora assures her, rolling her eyes. She looks a little _smug_ at keeping a secret from Catra. All Catra knows is that apparently athletic wear is fine for their destination, and Adora told the guard at the gate they were going to _the Blues_ when he cheerfully asked where they were heading to.

 _The Blues_ makes sense as Adora takes a long drive on the side of the road, a sign declaring it the entrance to Blue Mountain Nature Reserve. Catra frowns as Adora drives them into the park. She comes here enough she waves a pass at the booth guard as she pulls up, getting them waved through without a need for the window to even be rolled down. Adora tosses the pass back onto the center console as she parks them near an entrance to a trailhead.

Catra exits the car before Adora can say anything, if only to give her time to sweep the area before Adora decides to step into the open. They appear to be alone except for the toll booth guard down the road. She turns to Adora as she steps out of the car as well, sending her a questioning look. Adora just smiles, waving for her to follow as she starts towards the trail.

“I come here on the weekends a lot. There’s a mountain range about two miles down the trail, so I go hiking here when I can’t take sitting at home anymore,” Adora tells her as they pass the sign with the trail map. Adora does not even glance at it, but apparently she is familiar with the area.

Catra feels out of her depth. She has had some survival training, but she has never just gone _hiking_ before. She doesn’t know why the hell her confession about not finding TV entertaining anymore sparked Adora wanting to go on a hike. She could tell Adora was not that worn out from their sparring session, but this is a bit _much_.

“You come here alone?” Catra asks, because if nothing else it is a security issue. A massive one. Even just getting lost on her own could be a problem here. Walking a few paces ahead of her, Adora nods.

“I’ve been coming here for nearly four years. All the toll workers know me. There have been times when Angella insisted I bring a guard with me, but that’s what you’re here for,” Adora sends her a smile over her shoulder, effortlessly stepping over a root without looking forward. She really does know this area. Adora must see the realization on her face, because she just shrugs, facing forward again. “I go off-trail usually at this point, but we’ll just go up to the base of the mountain and loop back. We don’t have that much time to kill, anyway,” Adora tells her.

Catra narrows her eyes at Adora’s bobbing ponytail. “Adora,” she prompts, waiting. Adora has something she is trying to say, but she is dancing around it. That is supposed to be _Catra’s_ thing. Adora sighs, slowing her pace to fall in step beside Catra.

“Look, for the last six years, I have woken up, worked out, eaten breakfast, and then gone to school or work. When I was done, I came home and made dinner while I did any extra work I had been assigned or could _find_. This is pretty much the only other thing I do, and I only even started it as a way to build muscle and survival skills. The only time I really do things is when Glimmer and Bow drag me along somewhere. I don’t _have_ hobbies. The closest thing I ever had was looking for you and my moms,” Adora admits, motioning with her hands as she talks, voice a bit nervous.

Catra blinks at her, step faltering for a moment. Adora has access to anything and everything – she has money, and Angella’s influence, and barring safety issues she could go just about anywhere. Instead of using any of that, she has been staying at home, going through the same daily rinse-and-repeat Catra has, a routine that keeps them alive and not _living_.

Catra clears her throat, keeping her gaze fixed on Adora out of the corner of her eye. “Have you ever gone rockclimbing?” she asks. Adora startles a bit, head turning to look at her but step never pausing. Catra does not look back, at least not outright. After a moment's pause, Adora nods.

“In a facility, at least. I only ever did a real cliff a few times. Glimmer hated it when I dragged her along, and I didn’t really like it when I went by myself,” Adora tells her, voice a little cautious. Catra scoffs.

“Those artificial handholds are _shit_ ,” she complains. To her surprise, Adora brightens by her side. Catra rolls her eyes despite the way she can feel her face heating. “I’ll see if there is a real cliff set up nearby that will let hybrids in. Apparently my claws _damage property_ ,” Catra tells her, shrugging. Adora beams at her.

“You like to climb?” she asks, as if Catra has not made that obvious. Catra actually looks at her to give her a _no shit_ expression. Adora huffs, but she is still smiling. “That meant _tell me about it_ ,” she clarifies. Catra _knew_ that, she was just being obtuse because she _can_. Catra smacks Adora’s leg with her tail – completely accidentally of course – but Adora seems undeterred, just looking at her expectantly.

“Yes, I like to climb. It is a good way to work a lot of muscle groups, it feels good to dig my claws into something, and you can make tangible progress. I picked it up as another way to keep my body in shape after a client exposed me to it,” Catra tells her. Adora seems to relax beside her, some unknown tension leaving her body.

“I’m glad you found it, then. Whatever place will let you in, I’d love to go with you,” Adora agrees. Catra feels herself flush, flicking an ear in her direction as acknowledgement. She doesn’t trust herself to speak right now. Adora does not push her for more, apparently content with this small piece of herself Catra has offered her. Catra is grateful – she really has nothing else to give that is not work related from the last few years, and _nothing_ from the years before that.

The hike is nice, actually. They grew up in a totally urbanized area, smog tinging the sky when they were out playing in the battered streets. They were inner city kids who only saw real nature on the occasional field trip out of the city. Catra has experienced a wide range of places since then, but is not often she gets to just linger in nature, appreciating it.

Adora fits in here, calling a warning to Catra when the path is about to get rough as she walks it with long-practiced steps. It does not take them long at all to reach the base of the mountain, but once they reach it their ascent to the first checkpoint is slow. By the time they reach it, Adora squints up at the sun and turns back around the way they came.

“It’s getting late. We should head back if we want to make it back before sundown. I know this place in the dark too, but they close at nine,” Adora tells her. Catra follows, but she hesitates as she looks out over the park from even this low view. Adora notices, halting to turn and look at her questioningly. Catra does not look away from the stretch of blue sky and tree tops as she speaks.

“Adora? Hiking _is_ a hobby. Especially when you do it with someone else,” Catra tells her. She is not really sure what she is trying to do, aside from comfort her, but she can’t stop thinking about the derisive twist of Adora’s mouth as she admitted, in so many words, how _hollow_ her life is.

She hears Adora’s breath stutter slightly, and out of the corner of her eye she sees her visibly soften.

“So is rockclimbing,” Adora returns. Catra just nods, turning away from the view to start down the trail again. When she passes by Adora, she is smiling at her with that soft warmth she has always radiated. Catra feels herself blush as she picks up her pace.

\--

Adora gets a call while they are driving home. The sun set as they hit the highway, so she is not all that surprised when her phone rings with a call from Glimmer.

“Are you still at the Blues?” Glimmer asks in lieu of greeting when she answers it. Adora rolls her eyes at Glimmer clearly having asked after her from the security team. She wonders if Glimmer even checked her house first or just _assumed_. It is a fair assumption to make for a Sunday afternoon, but _still_.

Whatever. It’s a hobby, now.

“Heading back now,” Adora tells her. Glimmer hums on the other end of the line.

“If you miss dinner again, Angella might become convinced you have been kidnapped. She hasn’t seen you since Friday,” Glimmer tells her. Adora rolls her eyes, despite how Glimmer can’t see it.

“She can check the security footage if she is that paranoid,” Adora points out. Glimmer says nothing. Adora relents. “Fine, I’ll come to dinner. Let me shower and change first, though. I’m kind of gross after the hike.”

“I’ll tell her not to worry, but you should make it a quick one,” Glimmer agrees. There is a moment of silence. This _should_ be the end of the conversation. Glimmer does not end the call, however, clearly waiting with more. “How did Catra like the Blues?” Glimmer asks, tone a little too _knowing_ despite how it is obvious Catra came with her.

Adora pauses, glancing to her right. Catra raises an eyebrow at her. Adora is well aware her hearing is more than sharp enough to hear the conversation as if she is the one holding the phone. Before she is forced to look forward again, Adora catches Catra blushing.

“It was nice. Peaceful,” Catra says, voice a bit soft, _genuine_. Adora grins at the road ahead.

“She liked it,” Adora relays to Glimmer. Glimmer snorts, but Adora lets it go because she knows her voice is beaming.

“As long as you drag someone _else_ with you when you get your ass lost in the wilderness. See you at dinner,” Glimmer tells her, hanging up before Adora can finish her indignant protest that she _does not get lost_. She has, in the past, but that has not been for years now, and it was never badly. She never was turned around for more than an hour before she found her way back to familiar territory.

The car is silent as they make their way back to the estate’s drive. As they pull up to the gate, Catra speaks. “Do I have to wear a suit for dinner?” she asks, disdain at the idea obvious. Adora laughs, waving to the guard on duty at the gate.

“I’m going to wear joggers and a hoodie, probably. Just wear something like you did on Saturday,” Adora tells her. Catra visibly relaxes.

“Not that I don’t look fantastic in a suit, but wearing one to a family dinner is some rich people bullshit,” Catra tells her. Adora laughs. It is the _exact_ kind of thing she would expect Catra to say. It warms her heart, makes her a bit giddy as she pulls into her garage.

“Wait until we have to go to a gala,” she tells her. Catra groans dramatically.

\--

Catra is almost grateful for her spy training when they head to dinner. She feels awkward in the opulent halls, following behind Adora like she used to when they were kids. When they reach the dining hall, it is bigger than every apartment Catra has stayed in combined. The dining table could easily sit thirty people, though Catra has no clue _why_ you would want that.

Adora sits beside Glimmer and Bow, motioning for Catra to sit on her other side. Catra settles on a mask of neutrality for the evening. She is grateful she thought to ask about clothing, because everyone seems to be in a range of casualwear. She doesn’t need to feel like she is sticking out any more than she already does. She put her hair up in her work ponytail before they left the house, wanting to still seem as _on duty_ as she could, but it exposes the scarring on her neck. For once, she is glad for Adora's affinity for muscle tanks if only so some of her scars are out too, normalizing it despite how this dinner feels anything but normal.

Adora laughs with Glimmer, jokes passing between her and Bow as they talk. The only other people at the table are Angella, Juliet, and a woman Catra knows is Glimmer’s aunt even if she has not met her yet. To her surprise, the woman, Casta, sits between Juliet and Angella.

It takes her about six minutes to realize they are fucking, and she has to suppress a twitch of surprise when she spots it in the look they exchange after Angella makes a comment. Catra sweeps her tail to Adora’s lap, tapping it against her knee once before retreating. Without hesitating, Adora shifts her leg out underneath the table and taps their ankles together back.

 _Something interesting happened that I can't say_ and a silent acknowledgement to ask about it later.

Catra manages to keep herself from panicking for the rest of the meal by watching the – now she has picked up on it – entirely unsubtle interactions between two women clearly _trying_ to be secretive. She amuses herself with wondering who knows and how long-standing it is whenever she feels a pair of eyes on her. Angella watches her the most, but Glimmer and Bow are not positioned to really look at her, and Juliet is a bit _distracted_.

“So, Catra, Juliet tells me you were sparring with Adora this morning,” Angella prompts when things grow quiet. Catra does not visibly pause, but she still _does_ , using the bite she is in the middle of as a moment to think and recover. Angella is watching her with an appraising expression, clearly trying to decide if she disapproves or not.

Juliet was not present for a moment of it, Catra is certain, but she has access to the security tapes. It makes sense she would know. Catra should not really be surprised. It was hardly a _secret_. “Her form is perfect, but she telegraphs every move. I have to break down whatever her last teacher drilled in before she can hold her own,” Catra informs Angella, looking up to make eye contact with her, doing her best to keep her gaze unchallenging. Adora leans forward slightly in her seat.

“And I _want_ to be able to hold my own. It’s the only way I’m going to sleep at night,” Adora tells Angella. A hint of sadness creeps in her eyes, but Angella nods, letting it go. Catra releases a small sigh of relief. It really would not bode well if she got in trouble on her second real day. As awkward as this dinner is, the rest of the day has been _nice_ , if a lot. She doesn’t want to lose this, and Angella is the one person in this room who could make that happen – at least aside from Catra, ruining it herself.

\--

“What did you want to tell me?” Adora asks when they are walking back to her house after dinner. Catra only spoke when Angella talked directly to her at dinner, but Adora gets that it is the definition of _not getting space_. Family dinners are the furthest thing from something they experienced growing up, and the awkwardness of being _employed_ by said family probably did not help. She hopes Catra can one day be at ease during them, because she is pretty sure they have to go to at least one of them every weekend to keep Angella happy, but it would be a lot to expect Catra to just fall into it right away.

Catra startles, as if pulled out of a reverie, despite how her eyes were darting around the darkness of the night, on high alert when Adora spoke. “Did you know Juliet is fucking Casta? Like, Casta ate her out right before dinner. I could smell it on her as soon as I knew to look for it,” Catra tells her, gaze darting to Adora as she speaks. Adora nearly chokes on her surprise. It makes Catra laugh as they finally reach the house.

“They, uh, they have had a _thing_ going on, but they have never admitted anything about it. I didn’t know all _that_ ,” Adora tells her, feeling her ears burn. She is never going to be able to look Casta in the eye again. _Maybe_ Juliet, but she is on the fence about her too. “ _Why_ did you tell me that last part?” she whines, sending Catra a pained look as she opens the front door. Catra is actually cackling now.

“Did you know Glimmer’s secretary wants you to top her on her desk?” she asks when she catches her breath, because she wants Adora to _die_. She isn’t here to be her bodyguard, she is an assassin here to kill her with _sex talk_. Adora wants to sink through the floor, knowing she is glowing bright red as she locks the door behind them. Catra leans against the wall of the entryway, still snickering.

“You- you don’t know _all that_. There is no way she told you that,” Adora argues, voice weak as she sends a pleading look to Catra. _Please tell me she didn’t tell you that_. If nothing else, it is an HR violation. Catra flicks an ear, smirking at her.

“It’s in the way she looks at your thighs and then flushes whenever your arms flex. I’m pretty sure I caught her having a daydream about it on Friday,” she informs her. Adora is going to have a heart attack if Catra says another word. She does not need to know this, she was perfectly happy _not_ knowing this, and now it is all she is going to be able to think about every time she goes to Glimmer’s office. She adds Perfuma to the list of people she can't look in the eye anymore.

“You have barely even seen us interact,” she argues, despite how weak she knows it is. She actually did not know Catra had seen them in the same _room_ together, but apparently Catra has gotten a hell of lot more observant in the last few years. It makes sense, but Adora was not prepared for it, or for it be aimed at Perfuma secretly thirsting after her.

“You just have that _effect_ on people. I overheard two of the social media staff talking about how hot your scars are on the Wednesday,” Catra tells her, entirely too smug at how she is turning Adora to _dust_. Adora whines, completely involuntary, and desperately hopes Catra takes it as a _stop_. From the way Catra cackles, she seems to. Adora breathes a sigh of relief. In reality, she could not process Catra calling anything to do with her _hot_ , even if she was just quoting someone else.

She was just quoting someone else, Adora reminds herself.

“I- am going to go to my office. I haven’t checked my email all day. Something is probably burning down somewhere,” Adora tells her, the first excuse that comes to mind, absolutely fleeing as Catra’s laugh follows her, _haunts_ her up the stairs. She hates the part of her heart that says if she _has that effect on people_ , why can’t she have that effect on Catra too? She doesn’t need anyone else looking at her, she doesn’t give a shit about them. All she has ever wanted is Catra.

She reminds herself to stop being so selfish as she sits at her desk. She already has her best friend back, they are already _friends_ again, she shouldn’t be asking for more, especially not when Catra is barely comfortable with this much.

\--

As funny as it was, Catra regrets telling Adora about Glimmer’s secretary once she is alone. Not about Casta, or even the interns – maybe it will get her to finally _cover her arms for once_ – but the secretary could fall under _actionable advice_. Catra would do every single thing she could to sabotage it, but she could only do so much without being too _obvious_. She hates the sudden insecurity blooming in her chest. She walked herself into this mess, enjoying Adora’s flustered state far too much to stop running her mouth. Of course she said something she regrets. She comforts herself that Adora seems to be a bit too hung up on her right now to pursue it, but there is always the _rebound_.

She growls to herself, resolving to look into Alliance’s policies on in-company relationships on Monday. She will have plenty of down time while Adora is playing business in her office, anyway. She knows she is working herself up, thoughts running in circles in her empty guestroom as she resists the urge to pace.

Catra comes creeping out of her room cautiously. Adora is still in her home office – Catra has been tracking her movements even as she spiraled in her room. It is not hard, between her stomping footsteps and the way Catra still knows her scent. Even after six years Adora is using scentless products. It could be argued as a business curtesy, trying to be inclusive of Alliance’s hybrid employees, but Catra knows _better_. Knows Adora started using them for her and never stopped.

Adora has clung on just as much as Catra has. Catra holds onto that thought as she quietly roams about the house, trying to walk out her anxiety and actually taking in the décor now she is not appraising the place for vulnerabilities and she needs the distraction. Adora does not have much, some minimalistic furniture she suspects came with the place and the occasional knickknack decorating the shelves.

Adora has been one of the richest people in the country for five years now, and Catra is pretty sure the only place she has spent that money is in her closet. Maybe it is rude to look, but it is _open_ when Catra makes her way into Adora’s bedroom, and her security sweep requires her to come through here anyway. It is a blatant excuse to be in the room that smells the most like Adora and Catra knows it, but she lets herself have it. She was so thrown off by the domesticity of dinner, by being so _close_ to it and yet still an outsider, and then she went and made herself jealous over something that has not even _happened_ yet.

She can admit to herself how Adora’s scent calms her, and nothing carries it quite like her clothes do. Catra knows most of the closet is not clothing that Adora would have chosen herself, formal and business wear taking up the majority of it. The rest is soft t-shirts, flannels, hoodies, athletic wear, and well-worn jeans. The exact same shit that Adora wore in high school. Some of it _is_ the same clothing Adora wore then – Catra recognizes a few hoodies and the occasional t-shirt or pair of sweatpants.

She is sure Adora knows she is in here. She was carefully loud when she opened the door, giving Adora the chance to stop her if she wanted to. The typing inside the home office had paused, but it resumed quickly. Adora does not come to check on her as Catra finishes poking around and tries to resist the urge to selfishly crawl into her bed. It is cushioned memory foam, and Catra _absolutely_ could sink into and maybe sleep without night terrors for once. That is not why it calls to her though.

If Adora's room smells like her, if her clothes do, then her bed is the closest Catra can get to the real thing. Even if Adora knows she is in here, it is already enough of a violation for her to have entered her space like this, _for_ this. For all Adora knows she is just doing an extra security sweep since they have left the house and come back. Catra _did_ check the room when she first came in, if only to justify her presence there to herself, but there is no excuse for even approaching Adora’s bed.

Catra remembers the spike of jealousy she had felt on Friday when she had watched Glimmer’s secretary undress Adora with her eyes from several offices away. Catra suppresses a growl, climbing up onto the foot of the bed and burying her face in the sheets. Glimmer’s secretary – Catra does not even know her _name_ , that is how unimportant she is to Adora’s life – does not have the access to do this. Adora wouldn’t _let_ her.

Just a moment, she tells herself, curling into a tight ball. Today has been so overwhelming, being around _Adora_ again has been so overwhelming, sitting through dinner with Adora’s family and Catra running her own mouth was more than overwhelming. She gives herself a moment in such a familiar spot, in such a soft place, surrounded by the scent of safety. It is comforting to be at the foot of Adora’s bed again. Catra has not felt _safe_ in a long time, but this spot always did. She is shocked to find, even in a different bed, it still does.

Adora’s desk chair creaks. Catra freezes. She could leap off the bed. She _should_. She has been on a dozen hits, but fear has never gripped her this strongly, paralyzing her as Adora’s office door opens. The fear is real, but Catra knows what really keeps her frozen is the guilt at having done this in the first place, at the thought of then _hiding_ it - and the fact that she doesn’t _want_ to move. She already has her face buried in the sheets so she doesn’t have to actually _see_ Adora’s reaction should she stay.

The only thing that keeps her claws from sliding out when she hears Adora’s footsteps halt in the open doorway is the fact she is at the very foot of the bed, not even in the space where Adora sleeps, really. Hopefully something to bring up fond memories of when they used to sleep like this, and not be a violation of her space to Adora.

Adora sucks in a sharp breath when she stops in the doorway. She doesn’t speak for several long moments. “You could sleep here, you know. Protect me from assassination attempts during the night,” Adora says, voice soft, cautious humour at the end. Catra _feels_ herself blush into the sheets. Absolutely not. She won’t last a _day_ if she does.

She wants to so fucking bad. To actually feel _safe_ at night.

She growls at Adora instead of speaking. She can’t risk opening her mouth and saying _okay_. Besides, she does not need Angella finding out and _firing her_ , probably. Catra can imagine how that conversation would go already. Adora does not seem offended by her aggressive response. She huffs, but it sounds more _disappointed_ than anything else.

“Can I come in?” Adora asks. Catra snorts into the sheets, still not looking up.

“It’s _your_ room, Adora. If you want me to leave, tell me,” Catra points out. She knows Adora does not want that, but she needs to put the offer on the table for her. To anyone else in the world, this would be an utter violation, but Adora has always been open in every way. Adora _laughs_ , crossing the room in a few strides.

“I ask you if you want to sleep in my bed, and you think it is a cue to _leave_?” Adora asks her, sounding exasperated. She is at the edge of the bed. Catra feels herself stiffening, waiting. Adora seems to pick up on it, taking a few steps back. “It’s an open offer, Catra. It doesn’t… have to mean anything. We used to do it all the time,” she adds, cautiously. Catra swallows. She can do this. She can say the right thing.

“No,” is all she manages to reply, but at least she does not say yes. She can _feel_ Adora’s disappointment, but she doesn’t push the point.

“Okay. It’s still open, if you change your mind. Or if you just want to lay here while I’m in my office, I guess,” she replies. Her voice starts disappointed, but the humour creeps back in by the end. Catra growls again, but it is softer this time. Flustered. From the way Adora snorts, she knows Adora can still tell the difference. There is a moment of hesitance. “It’s the scent, right?” Adora asks, softly.

Catra is _more_ flustered, but she nods into the sheets. She can _feel_ the satisfaction rolling off Adora even from here. Adora is on a fucking _roll_ today, because she has Catra growling again, but Adora just laughs softly. “I’m going to go back and finish with my emails. You can stay as long as you need, okay? And come back whenever,” Adora tells her, offering too much, giving Catra too much. She leaves before Catra can tell her _no_.

She just opened her bed to an _assassin_ and she does not even know it. How she made it this long is a miracle. Catra is going to have to be at her shoulder _constantly_. The thought should annoy her as much as it worries her, but instead it just makes her heart warm. She forces herself to leave the bed after a few moments more. She doesn’t want to still be there when Adora _does_ finish. Adora is giving her space – in an _Adora_ way, still asking Catra to _sleep with her_ again – but Catra knows that would only last until the second she came back to find Catra still there. Catra returns to her room, settling in her own, unfamiliar bed. She listens to Adora hesitate outside her door in the hall when she finally leaves her office, but she eventually turns to her own room for the night. 

With Adora’s scent clinging all over her skin, Catra falls into a completely peaceful sleep for the second night in a row.

Glimmer’s secretary can fucking _try_. Catra was here first, and she had Adora’s heart first. Catra will do what she has to in order to keep it, even if she is trying to stand at a safe distance.


	4. ACT I: Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe if she let the tie go, she wouldn't be in this position, but here she is, curled in Adora's bed _again_. She's so weak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that Catra can't see red (feline colourblind) and it makes her hate purple because to her it just looks blue, and then it turns out to be an entirely different colour that she can't grasp.

Adora watches Catra as they eat breakfast. Catra does a sweep of the house while Adora cooks, and she calls Juliet to check in, but after that she settles in the kitchen nook and alternates between pretending she is not watching Adora and staring out the window. Catra seems to be in a good mood, despite running again last night. She is relaxed where she sits, curled up in the seat similarly to how she had been at the foot of Adora’s bed, her tail swaying peacefully as she watches out the window.

Adora makes breakfast for both of them without asking. Catra realized when she entered the kitchen, and though she raised an eyebrow, she did nothing about it. Adora will take it as a win. She took it as win last night when Catra went sneaking into her room, and she took it as a _victory_ when Catra curled up in her sheets for _comfort_. Catra may be doing her best to run from her, but Adora is certain she does not want to. She is _pretty sure_ she can convince Catra to stay. She might even get her to sleep in her bed again, maybe beside her now Shadow isn't breathing down their necks. The second day would have been a lot for her, even if Adora is ready for it. She can wait.

“Wear a suit today. I have an off-site negotiation to oversee this morning,” Adora tells Catra when they head back upstairs to change. Catra just nods to her, disappearing into her room and then returning in an outfit that will be Adora’s _death sentence_.

Black, head-to-toe, even the dress shirt underneath, all except for the maroon tie. Her hair is up in a ponytail, like it had been during the week before, but over the weekend she has been wearing it down. The glimpses of Catra in a suit Adora had caught throughout the week had done _plenty_ for her, but this tailored power piece is just _too much_. Adora flushes and looks quickly away when Catra raises a brow at her.

“Do you know what colour your tie is?” she asks, to cover her reaction as she hurries to descend the stairs. She feels Catra hesitate behind her.

“Should I change?” she asks, not admitting weakness outright, but still _admitting_.

 _Absolutely not_ , Adora almost says. She bites her tongue. “No, it works. People are going to think _you’re_ the one who is there for the meeting, but it will be funny at least,” Adora assures her, not daring to turn around as she gathers her things. She has just opted for a classic gray set, but she definitely does not want Catra to _change_. She was almost convinced the first week that Catra only owns one or two suits, given how she had looked to same from day-to-day. _Clearly_ not.

She has to distract herself if she wants to not crash the car once they get on the road. She glances towards Catra as they make their way into the garage. “Are you using the closet?” she asks. Catra looks at her with obvious confusion, but nods. The bedrooms in Adora’s house are two identical masters, and Catra has a walk-in closet connected to both the bedroom and the bathroom, but when Adora had glanced in the room on Saturday it did not appear that Catra had much. She could have easily shoved it all in the dresser.

Adora takes a steadying breath as she turns on the car, finally pulling out of the driveway. “I could hang your clothes by colour gradient if you’d like. That way you know what you are pulling, at least. You have some purple tops,” Adora tells her. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Catra going entirely still in the passenger seat. Adora gives her a minute to think it over as she pulls up to the gate and waves to the security staff stationed there.

Catra does not speak as Adora takes them down the drive to the main road. She waits until they are on the highway to even acknowledge Adora’s words. “I didn’t know that,” she murmurs. It takes Adora a minute to work backwards in her mind to realize Catra must be referring to her purple clothes.

“Yeah, I figured. I know you hate it. And that you _also_ hate asking for help. It wouldn’t take me long,” Adora assures her. She wishes she weren’t driving so she could look at Catra, but she also hates giving up control of the wheel. Besides, she needs the distraction.

Catra’s tail flicks across the center console, lightly resting against her leg before she withdraws again. It is the closet thing to a _thank you_ Adora is going to get, but it is just as good as the words to her. She knows it means the same thing as the words would. Adora smiles to herself as she drives them towards a meeting she _was_ dreading before she had such a good morning.

\--

The off-site meeting turns out to be at a high-rise not far from Alliance. Catra shadows Adora as she signs in for the meeting. Adora goes through _three_ different scanners that the security team just ushers Catra around, causing Catra to raise a brow at Adora, but Adora just waves her off as they reconvene on the other side of the lobby.

“Eternia Industries is serious about fair negotiations. They don’t want outside tech brought in to allow collusion between meeting participants. I’m just here to make sure money transfer regulations are observed, but I have to go through the same process as all the meeting attendees,” Adora tells her as she leads her through the halls with familiarity. Adora hesitates when a glass conference room comes into sight, turning to look at her apologetically.

“Nobody but invitees are allowed inside. Even Entrapta does not bring her bodyguard in, and she is the CEO. You can wait in the lounge. The doors are kept unlocked anyway, but I trust you to bust down the glass should it be necessary,” Adora tells her, sending her a wry smile. Catra pauses, taking in the conference room appraisingly. It has no outside windows, located in the middle of an inner corridor of the floor. Two of the walls are solid, and two are glass. Catra could absolutely come to Adora’s aid should she need to.

It will also keep her from having to sit through a boring meeting. The lounge Adora had indicated with a wave of her hand is actually a nearby collection of armchairs and sofas, but it is within range for Catra is listen in on the conference room, especially with the glass walls. It seems to have been purposefully set up out of the human range of hearing, but Catra could make out the proceedings easily.

Catra sends Adora a grin, with too many fangs in it for polite company. “Gladly, princess,” she promises her. Adora flushes and huffs at the nickname, but no one else is close enough to overhear, and it is _funny_. Catra would _love_ to bust through the glass, anyway. She gives her a short bow before retreating to the lounge. Two men in suits are already waiting there, clearly there for the same reason as Catra. Both are wearing earpieces and have the outlines of holsters underneath their suit jackets.

Catra does not acknowledge them as she settles in one of the few armchairs left. She keeps her eyes open, scanning the area as Adora enters the conference room and settles near the head of the table. From here, Catra is angled to just catch a glimpse of the side of her face. It will have to be good enough. She would have a better view of Adora’s expressions on one of the couches, but she is not sitting next to a stranger carrying a gun.

Catra stays on high alert as the rest of the meeting attendees arrive, picking up through hushed, private conversations that they are all here vying for the rights to some new hardware Eternia Industries is releasing. Adora explained her role a little, but Catra is going to have to get Adora to brief her better than this. Alliance is a finance company, but the kind that finances countries and multinationals, not mere home loans. The other attendees of this meeting are far too well-armed for Catra’s liking. Of the just over dozen other attendees that arrive, four more of them are sporting personal guards. Catra is shocked when she recognizes one.

Scorpia notices her right away, eyes zeroing in on Catra as she enters the room. Her step visibly falters, but she manages to tear her gaze away as she follows behind her client, a woman not even vaguely dressed in formal wear. She is sporting pigtails in a _business setting_. Catra listens closely as the presenter for the meeting steps out of the conference room to greet them warmly.

“Ah, Entrapta! We are almost ready to get started. You can head in if you like, but as you know it is unnecessary for you to be present until the end,” the man greets. Catra narrows her eyes, despite her gaze currently being fixed on Adora. The key to eavesdropping is to certainly not _look_ at the people you are spying on.

Entrapta. The CEO. Scorpia has definitely climbed the ladder in the last few years since they worked together. She had still been green, despite having two years of seniority in the agency, when they worked together on Catra's first assignment. The CEO thing at least explains why Entrapta is dressed in such a cavalier way. Apparently her product is good enough she can get away with it.

“Ah, I’d rather review the proposals as they come in. I know this is only round one, but there are always some that are immediately improbable to actually fulfill,” Entrapta waves him off, already carrying on inside and heading straight for the head of the table. Scorpia does not attempt to follow her in, immediately turning and making her way to sit in the chair beside Catra.

“Wildcat! How have you been?” Scorpia greets _immediately_ , too loud and too joyful for a business office. The other security personnel, who up until this point have been waiting alongside her in complete silence, all stare at Scorpia as Catra raises a brow at her. Scorpia has the grace to look sheepish as she sits down on the ottoman beside her. Catra is infinitely grateful there was a chair available when she sat. If she had sat on one of the couches, she knows Scorpia would have sat far too close.

“Eyes on your client, Scorpia. I can’t _still_ be training you,” Catra tells her, her own eyes still fixed on the conference room. She can watch Scorpia out of the corner of her eye regardless. Scorpia immediately turns to face forward.

“Right, of course. I just got excited! And I have been to a ton of these things with Entrapta before. Nothing exciting ever happens,” Scorpia promises her, but she seems to be back on duty now at least, even if she is still rambling to her.

“And here I was hoping to have to break down the glass,” Catra returns, wry as she notices two of the other guards waiting with them sending each other a semi-incredulous look in response. She doesn’t care. She has always been wild, even if she has had to hide it from her previous clients.

“The door is unlocked,” Scorpia reminds her. Catra grins, knowing full well Scorpia can see it out of the corner of her eye.

“ _I know_ ,” she returns. So sue her. Not that she _wants_ there to be a single assassination attempt on Adora, but her last two jobs were totally violence-free. She kind of misses the rush of a real fight. Maybe Adora will get in another bar fight and Catra can come to her rescue. There’s an idea.

“Uh, so how have you been? I heard you might be leaving the agency,” Scorpia asks her. Scorpia never got Catra’s violent streak. She was always a big sweetheart, despite her brute strength and chosen profession. When they worked together, Catra had ended up teaching her a lot of techniques she never would have picked up from someone else legally. Though they have never had a job together again, Scorpia always made a point to talk to her when they ran into each other at the agency.

Scorpia has had a crush on her ever since Catra pulled a bullet out of her arm and stitched her up. Apparently she still does, if the disappointment in her voice is anything to go on. Catra does not know _why_ , because aside from Catra helping her after they saved their client from a drive-by, Catra has been the furthest thing from _friendly_ to her. She is not even nice enough to really be her type.

“Current client is planning to hire me onto their personal staff after the contract is up,” Catra explains, shrugging. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Scorpia’s shoulder visibly fall in her disappointment.

“You must like the client then. You always wanted to keep things changing,” Scorpia says, almost as if she is comforting herself that Catra is happy. Catra does an astounding job of not reacting, merely flicking an ear in acknowledgement. Yeah, she might _like the client_ a little bit.

“The blonde in the ponytail,” she supplies, instead, knowing Scorpia will understand her meaning and find Adora. When she does, Scorpia sucks in a breath.

“You’re working for the Queens? No wonder you’re staying on. That has to be the best paycheck you could get in this country,” Scorpia responds. Catra can _feel_ jealousy rolling off her, but she also knows it has absolutely nothing to do with the _paycheck_. Catra doesn’t have a type – she has always been too hung up on Adora to really pay attention to someone else – but for the entire five months she and Scorpia worked together, Catra had to fight her breath stuttering when she caught sight of a blonde who _could be her_ until Catra got a closer look. It was not what Scorpia thought it was – but it also _was_.

“I was getting bored at the agency anyway. Like you said, I need change,” Catra agrees. She falls silent as the meeting proper starts. Scorpia fidgets beside her, clearly wanting to say more, but she picks up on Catra’s cue to fall silent. They are not supposed to discuss their clients, at least not anything more detailed than who they are, and they really should not be talking freely while on-duty in an unsecured location. Not that Catra is ever _off_ , but last she checked Scorpia did not take twenty-four-hour gigs. Catra never cared – she didn’t have a personal life, anyway.

“Anything exciting happening?” Scorpia asks her after a long period of silence. Every guard around them immediately zeros in on Catra, with varying levels of obviousness. One of them actually looks _mad_ at her. Catra sighs.

“Thanks, Scorpia,” she mutters. Scorpia releases a small _oops_ , hunching in her seat a little. Scorpia is well aware of Catra’s range of hearing – she was always a bit in awe of Catra’s range of senses. Catra could keep the details to herself, but there really is nothing going on right now. “They’re in the bidding phase. It’s mostly frustrated huffing,” she tells her. Scorpia nods by her side. Several of the other guards are still eyeing her, but no one _says_ anything.

“Like I said, these things are usually boring. Ms. Grayskull only comes in person to the most important ones, but we haven’t had an incident in the year I have been on, anyway,” Scorpia tells her. Catra narrows her eyes at the back of Adora’s head. Clearly she has an on-going relationship with this company. Catra is definitely going to have to grill her in the car. She has had clients who told her all these details, and ones who wanted to keep it all private, but nothing about Adora is private between them anyway.

Catra catches the shift of paper from within the room, despite everyone working on provided tablets. She twitches her ears, eyeing the attendees to see who is shifting. After a moment, she hears the sound of paper again, a pair on the far end of the table shifting briefly as the sound dies. The man of the pair glances down towards his lap before returning to his tablet. Catra makes a note that seats nine and ten are passing something back and forth. Seat nine has a guard, too – the one who looked _mad_. It could be innocent – but it could be dangerous.

She is distracted from her theories already spinning off into corporate collusion by Adora sighing. The sound is soft – Catra barely picks it up through the glass – but Catra sees her shifting a bit in her seat. Bored, probably. Catra never would have thought Adora was cut out for the corporate world before. After a pause, she reaches into her pocket and sends Adora text about the colluding pair. She likely won’t check her phone in the meeting, but if she does maybe it will at least interest her.

Adora shifts in her seat again, raising her arm to look at her watch and frown.

“Entrapta? I need a word outside,” Adora interrupts the meeting, standing from her chair. Within a few minutes, all hell has broken loose.

\--

Adora has a smart watch for the _express_ _purpose_ of being able to secretly glance at encouraging messages from Glimmer or Bow during long meetings. When she notices the surface light up, she glances down in surprise, because she would not have thought Glimmer would have remembered when her meeting was off-site.

_Tortoise glasses and brunette at the end are passing paper under the table._

Adora blinks in surprise at the message, quickly glancing up to find the man and woman Catra has indicated. They are sitting next to each other at the far corner of the table. Adora was not really paying attention to their companies when they came in. Still, collusion is strictly banned at these types of things. She knows Eternia Industries would not want an unscrupulous contract.

Adora stands, clearing her throat and making pointed eye contact with Entrapta. Even if she is not the official presenter today, it is _her_ company. “Entrapta? I need a word outside,” Adora says, as politely as she can, carefully not looking at anyone else, but _especially_ not towards the pair Catra had indicated. Entrapta startles, just nodding and smiling at her as she rises from her own seat.

There is a reason Entrapta is not the presenter. Her social skills are shit, even if her mechanical expertise makes her one of the best hardware producers out there. She clearly is unbothered by the rudeness of interrupting the entire meeting. The presenter raises an eyebrow but says nothing as his boss steps out of the conference room with Adora.

Adora sends Catra a pointed look that has her rising immediately. She places a hand on Entrapta’s shoulder and steers her down the hall, away from the sightline of the conference room. Catra catches up quickly, Scorpia trailing behind her, clearly unsure if she should follow.

“What did you need, Adora?” Entrapta asks her, glancing between her and Catra as Catra falls in place behind her. Adora turns to look over her shoulder, making eye contact with Catra and nodding to give her the go ahead. Catra pauses, looking a bit unsure, before she steps forward to stand at Adora’s side and address Entrapta. In the background, Scorpia hovers a few feet away.

“The man in tortoiseshell glasses and brunette at the far end of the table are passing paper back and forth. They have done it once each way. They started after bidding began. The man’s bodyguard knows, he was nervous when he realized my hearing extended to the conference room,” Catra informs her.

Entrapta frowns, genuine anger entering her gaze. Adora has never actually seen her upset before, but Entrapta heavily values fairness and honesty. She does not understand why people lie _at all_ , she just does not seem capable of it, and those kinds of deeply-held values don’t exactly align the reality of the corporate world. She was lucky to get in with Alliance when she was just a start-up. She would have been easy to take advantage of, but Angella has been sure to be just as loyal to her as Entrapta has been to them.

“Thank you for telling me… What is your name?” Entrapta starts to thank Catra, drawing to a halt mid-sentence. Right. Adora forgets there are people who know her outside of Catra, now.

“This is Catra. My bodyguard,” Adora introduces, reaching out to place a hand on Catra’s back, not too insistent, but encouraging her to step forward all the same. Catra narrows her eyes at Adora, but takes the hint to reach out a hand to shake with Entrapta. Entrapta likes handshakes. She understands the rules of them. Entrapta takes Catra’s hand happily, shaking it twice.

“Scorpia! Call the security team! We have some interrogations to begin. Oh, this is so exciting!” Entrapta calls over their shoulders, waving to her bodyguard all-too cheerfully. Catra snorts by Adora’s side but steps back to fall in place behind her shoulder again as Entrapta starts back down the hall. Scorpia is already on her earpiece, murmuring to the security staff while glancing between the three of them.

“I didn’t know you’d _say_ anything,” Catra hisses to Adora as Adora follows after Entrapta. Adora rolls her eyes, despite how Catra can’t see it from behind her. She doesn’t sound angry, just a bit thrown off.

“Entrapta is not just a client, she’s a friend. And even if it were just a client, I wouldn’t want them getting swindled,” Adora replies as they step back within sight of the conference room. Entrapta turns around, beaming at her.

“Thank you for the sentiment! You are my friend as well,” Entrapta tells her, honest and happy, before she turns back around and opens the conference room door, waving Scorpia in with her. Catra raises an eyebrow over Adora’s shoulder. Adora decides to explain Entrapta’s particular brand of socialization to Catra later.

\--

The meeting comes to a screeching halt when the pair of representatives turn over the papers in their pockets. They are practically shaking as they do so, Scorpia standing over them with her best bitchface on and Catra standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and claws _out_.

Specs being pass back and forth, technical details that go way over Catra’s head, but that have Entrapta glowering at the papers. By then the rest of the security team has arrived, and the pair are escorted out under guard. There are a lot of dramatics from the other meeting attendees. Adora was not kidding about being _friends_ with Entrapta. She steps up for her, despite it being _her_ company, and assures everyone that the meeting will be rescheduled, with those two companies banned from any further work with Eternia Industries or Alliance.

It takes nearly thirty minutes to extract themselves from the aborted meeting. They end up in Entrapta’s office, three floors up. “Catra, can you text Juliet that we have two additions to the corporate blacklist? She’ll know what it means,” Adora asks her as she flops on a couch against the wall of Entrapta’s office. Scorpia’s stare burns holes in the side of Catra’s head as she nods and pulls out her phone.

“Should I also tell her we will be delayed getting back?” Catra asks as she fires off the first text. Adora groans from on the couch. Catra can’t help the quirk of her smile as she sends the follow-up confirming they will, in fact, be late. Juliet fires back almost immediately. “How delayed?” Catra asks, crossing the room to settle on the arm of the couch. Adora lowers the arm she was using to cover her eyes, squinting up at Catra as she considers it.

“Hopefully only thirty. The meeting was supposed to end ten minutes ago. We can’t be that late. I have shit to do this afternoon too,” Adora tells her. Catra nods, relaying the information before slipping her phone away.

Scorpia has been so focused staring at Catra ever since Adora said her name that she has not even finished her sweep of the room. She has certainly checked it enough to be sure, but not enough to be _thorough_. Entrapta does not seem to have noticed. She is sitting at her computer and huffing. After a moment, she looks up and makes eye contact.

“Thank you, Catra. I am certain they went with an analog method knowing how difficult it would be to sneak tech in here without detection. This has exposed a vulnerability in our system, one I will make sure we counter,” Entrapta tells her. Catra nods to her, ear flicking a bit when she notices Adora beaming up at her out of the corner of her eye.

“No security system is going to have Catra’s hearing, but increased measures wouldn’t hurt,” Adora agrees. Scorpia makes a small noise in her throat at hearing Adora say Catra’s real name for a _third_ time, but it is quiet enough Catra doubts anyone else picks it up. Catra sends Scorpia a _don’t_ look and pointedly looks away, but it does nothing to deter her.

Scorpia has finally remembered to finish her security sweep. She crosses the room, pausing by the door to the office. “I would like a word outside about, uh, security concerns,” Scorpia says, making eye contact with her and clearly uncertain how to actually address her. Adora sits up from her sprawl, raising an eyebrow at Scorpia.

“Catra’s good, I promise,” Adora tells her. Catra feels herself flushing and quickly rises from her perch on the couch. She sends Scorpia a heated look as she follows after her, glad Adora cannot see her face from her seat on the couch.

“We will only be a moment. The office is secured,” Catra assures her, yanking the door open just a little too harshly. She stalks from the room with Scorpia hot on her heels. Scorpia sends the room a sheepish look as she closes the door behind them and then turns to Catra with obvious concern.

“Listen, Wildcat, I know you hate your name, so you might have told her a nickname is fine, but you don't have to let a client be racially insensitive-“ Scorpia starts, placing a pincher on her shoulder and leading her a few steps away.

Catra bursts out laughing. She doesn’t mean to, but she cannot _believe_ that is where Scorpia’s mind went with this. Scorpia stares at her in blatant shock, face flushing a little as Catra fights to get her cackle down to at least a snicker. It takes her a second, and she has to catch her breath for a moment more, but eventually she is able to straighten so she can look Scorpia in the eye.

“Scorpia, Catra is my _name_. My actual name,” Catra tells her, still having to fight down her amusement. Scorpia stares down at her, in a different kind of shock now.

“But, everyone at the agency always called you Cyra, and you said you hate your name. That’s the whole reason I gave you a nickname!” Scorpia protests, clearly confused and a bit hurt. Catra does her best to not recoil. She does not know why Scorpia is _hurt_ over this, but she really does not have the emotional capacity to deal with it right now.

“Cyra is my legal name. Catra is what I was called growing up. I prefer it,” Catra settles on saying, shrugging. Scorpia looks _conflicted_ , biting her lip. Her gaze darts back to the office door. Catra _really_ does not want to deal with this, and she wants to leave Adora alone in an unfamiliar office even more. She can hear inside, the only movement Entrapta typing on her keyboard, but she does not want to keep waiting out here.

“We need to head back in. Adora asked me what I would like to be called and I told her Catra, okay? It’s fine,” Catra assures her, rolling her eyes and turning back to the office door. Scorpia hovers over her shoulder, clearly unsure, but she follows Catra as she heads back inside. Adora raises an eyebrow as they reenter, sending her a look clearly questioning what was actually happening there. She likely heard Catra laughing from inside the office. Catra rolls her eyes, moving to perch on the arm of the sofa.

“Scorpia and I have worked together for a client in the past. We’re friends,” Catra tells Adora. Scorpia actually _coos_ at the word friends. Catra feels herself flushing, turning to look anywhere but in Scorpia’s direction, but Adora beams up at her from on the sofa.

“Well, you’ll get to see her plenty. All of Entrapta’s finances are handled by Alliance. She comes and visits often,” Adora tells her. Catra flicks an ear in Adora’s direction, ignoring the questioning look Scorpia is throwing her _again_. Catra cannot tell Scorpia what is going on. She and Adora are obviously a bit _familiar_ , but it is against agency policy for guards to know their clients. She is pretty sure Scorpia would not tell on her, but she is not putting her in that position. Better to keep it to themselves if possible.

Adora’s phone chimes and she checks it with a sigh. “Okay, dramatics aside, we need to head back. Glimmer is going to have my head if I miss the executive meeting while she has to sit through it,” Adora tells her, sitting up from the couch with great reluctance. Catra is relieved. Anything to get away from Scorpia’s downright suspicious gaze narrowing in on Adora. Catra sends her one last _don’t_ look as Adora bids farewell to Entrapta. She makes sure to cross to the door and open it for Adora quickly. If Adora had held a door open for her, she is pretty sure Scorpia would have a conniption on the spot.

\--

The executive meeting is boring as hell, but it always is. Glimmer is also _in_ the meeting, so she can’t even send Adora her encouragement texts. Glimmer struggles with her attention span and hates meetings like this as much as Adora does. Catra accompanies her to the meeting room, but when they reach the room she goes off with Juliet for some additional training. Adora is going to have to see if she can get Catra a seat in these things. Bow comes with Glimmer to some, although he usually works on general site security during them. At least if she had Catra around they could talk under the table, leg and tail movements enough to keep her mind occupied.

Adora is grateful when the meeting finally lets out. She practically flees the room, relieved when Catra is already waiting for her. Catra looks immediately bemused upon seeing her expression. Adora huffs and rolls her eyes, but she just waves for Catra to follow her to her office.

“How do you survive these things? You already look close to your breaking point,” Catra asks as they make their way to Adora’s private office. Catra closes the door behind them with an air of finality. Adora stops, taking a deep breath and telling herself this room is her oasis. It's not, but she has always been good at lying to herself.

“I _don’t_. I pass out from stress at least twice a month. Glimmer and I send each other texts to keep ourselves occupied during meetings, but when we’re both in the meeting that doesn’t work. Sometimes Bow hops in for us, but he has his work too,” Adora tells her, crossing to the side of her office where a wall hides her small kitchenette and the entrance to her private bathroom. A security measure from when Juliet would escort her to her office and secure the area, leaving Adora inside in what should have been safety. She would spend the entire business day cooped up in this room for the first few weeks before the number of meetings she had just made it impractical to continue. Still, she has the amenities to spend most of her time in this room.

She fixes herself tea as Catra sweeps the room. “Twice a month?” Catra asks, reappearing near her side and sending her a _judging_ look. Adora sighs, holding up the box of tea and sending her a questioning look. Catra hesitates, narrowing her eyes at her before nodding.

“Two times a month usually. I told you I don’t do anything but work. It catches up with you, apparently. Bow usually calls down to make sure I’m still conscious after the particularly stressful meetings,” Adora tells her, keeping her eyes carefully fixed on the counter as she works on making the tea. She can _feel_ Catra seething beside her, but if she does not look up she does not have to see it.

Catra does not say anything though, keeping her opinion down to a narrow-eyed glare as she accepts the tea from Adora when she finishes making it. Adora takes her own and settles in at her desk. Adora tosses her a tablet from her desk drawer, which Catra catches with one hand while raising an eyebrow at her.

“It’s going to be phone calls and computer work for the rest of the day. Something to keep you occupied in between staring out the windows. Welcome to the corporate America monarchy,” Adora tells her, rolling her eyes as she gets started pulling up work on her computer. It is all worth it for the way Catra softly laughs to herself, crossing the room to curl up on Adora’s couch with the tablet in her lap.

Despite how she is facing the tablet in her lap – or alternatively sweeping her gaze out the windows – Adora feels Catra’s gaze on her _often_ throughout the rest of the afternoon.

\--

Adora tries to follow her into her room after work. It takes Catra a minute to remember _why_. She stops her in the doorway, noticing the flash of panic in Adora’s eyes before she quickly stamps it down.

“I would like to change first. I may be _used_ to suits, but I would still rather be wearing leggings any day,” Catra tells her. She sees true relief hit Adora’s eyes as she nods, retreating to her own room. Catra changes quickly, pulling on a white tank top if only because she knows it is _actually_ white and throwing on one of her pairs of leggings. These are designed for magicats with their stirrup foot, so they came _labeled_ and she knows they are truly black.

When she finishes changing, she opens her bedroom door and waits. Welcoming, but Adora has to seek her out first.

Adora is always seeking her out, it seems. Catra is in her closet when she hears Adora hesitantly stop in the doorway. “Most people take _open_ as an invitation, Adora,” Catra points out, emerging from the closet to raise an eyebrow at her. Adora huffs, rolling her eyes, but she steps inside finally and makes her way to join Catra in the closet.

“You’re touchy about your territory,” Adora points out. Catra narrows her eyes at her, but Adora just raises an eyebrow in a clear challenge, waiting for Catra to refute her. Catra _can’t_. Adora is right and they both know it. Catra settles for growling and turning away.

“Let’s just get this over with. I want to eliminate the purple,” Catra tells her. Adora laughs beside her, but she moves to the rack to help Catra get to work. Adora had been honest that morning, even if she did not know _how so_. It does not take them long at all to rearrange Catra’s clothes. She hardly has any outside of her athleticwear and three suits. Adora frowns at her closet when they finish.

“We need to get you more clothes,” she decides, glancing at the _multiple_ empty closet rods in the closet. Catra scoffs.

“Inconvenient to haul between jobs, and people just can’t stop _bleeding_ on them for some reason. I’m fine with what I have,” Catra tells her. She used to have eight suits – the number has dwindled over time. She definitely could afford more clothes, but she has always hated shopping for them by herself, unsure of what she was actually picking out. She had _three_ purple tops without knowing it. She had tried to pull them all off the rack, but Adora has insisted she keep them. They are quarantined on their own rod in the corner now.

“Well you’re not _hauling_ them around now, and we can replace the things you lost. We’ll do it together, Catra. You don’t have to talk to the sales assistants even,” Adora counters. She hesitates, glancing around the closet. “Where are your ties? And your stirrup socks?” she asks, not giving Catra time to say _no_ or point out any of the presumptions Adora has made.

She is _right_ , but still.

“Dresser. Who hangs their fucking socks?” Catra asks, following after Adora as she leaves the closet. Adora snorts.

“Glimmer, but that’s-“

“-some rich people bullshit,” Catra finishes for her, grinning a little bit. Adora throws her a beaming smile in response. Catra might just be having heart palpitations. She turns away quickly. “Fine, we can go clothes shopping sometime,” Catra agrees, if only to distract them both. Adora actually bounces on her heels, Catra hears it even with her back turned. Catra can't admit how grateful she is. She hates knowing her perception is different from other peoples', never able to really _trust_ what she sees, but she knows Adora will help her when they go out. It is a relief to finally know what she has.

“It has to be soon. If _I_ noticed you repeating suits already, other people are going to as well,” Adora tells her, but from the sound of her voice Catra can tell she is at least turning to face the dresser again. Catra should point out that Adora may be generally oblivious, but she has spent the last _week_ staring at Catra. She doesn’t, because that would mean acknowledging their whole dance.

Then she hears the sound of the dresser opening and Adora nearly _choking_. She turns around, confused, and halts when she sees Adora staring into her top drawer. She frowns, crossing the room to peer into it. It looks exactly as she left it. “What? I needed to put my weapons somewhere. Their cases are all secure. Socks are one drawer down. Ties and gloves below that,” Catra tells her.

Adora has turned bright red, gaze flicking between Catra and the drawer. Finally, Catra realizes just which _weapon_ she is narrowing in on. Catra has a few stowed inside, a guns case beside a throwing dagger set taking up the left half of the drawer. There are a few disguised garrotes coiled together in the middle, and at the far end of the drawer is her whip. Catra feels herself flush.

“I’ve choked someone with that,” Catra starts to justify, but Adora’s eyes just go wider and she realizes that _didn’t help_. “No, not _like that_ \- well-“ she is only making this _worse_ , “I was a dominatrix for a cover identity, okay? I learned to use it, and I liked it - _as a weapon_. It’s ranged, I’m not a big fan of guns, and I’m kind of hand-to-hand if you hadn’t noticed.”

Adora closes the drawer, still red and _staring_ , though Catra is pretty sure it is entirely _unseeing_. “You were a dominatrix,” she repeats, voice a bit hoarse. Catra flushes, taking a few steps away from the utter _heat_ rolling off Adora now. No, absolutely not. Why did she admit that? Why did she ever think it was a good idea to talk to Adora again? She turns Catra into a rambling _idiot_.

“For a _cover_. It was two days. I didn’t see any _private clients_. I just needed to get a target alone to extract some information from him. I learned stuff to be believable, but I didn’t actually _do_ anything,” Catra tells her, feeling her tail lash in her fluster. Shockingly, that seems to bring Adora back. She cringes a little, her flush retreating as she looks away, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Sorry to bring it up,” she says, sounding _ashamed_. Catra blinks at her, utterly confused. Two seconds ago Adora was _bothered_ , and now all that heat has vanished. Adora seems to catch it, visibly swallowing and looking a bit ill now. “ _Him_ ,” she points out. Catra feels her heart stutter a little. Her shoulders fall as she lets out a breath.

“Yeah. It sucked to deal with. I got what I needed and got out, though. I’m here now,” Catra tells her. Having to pretend to be at all interested, even in that domineering way, had been intensely uncomfortable. Being around a man interested in _her_ like that had nearly made her feel sick once they were alone. The relief of finishing the job had scared her more. She knew why she was relieved to have it be done, but it also made her fear she was starting to grow complacent to the things the Horde was making her do.

Adora picks up on how uncomfortable Catra is. She hesitates before her, wavering before she cautiously reaches out and takes her hand. Catra watches her approach, letting Adora touch her and trying to anchor herself with the feeling. She reminds herself she is _here_ , she made it. She reaches up with her free hand and rubs at the back of her neck, comforting herself with the numbness of the scar tissue there – with the reminder she got _out_.

Silently, Adora takes a few steps back, cautiously pulling Catra along with her. Catra blinks at her, but follows as Adora turns and leads them out of the room. It takes her a moment to realize Adora is taking her to her bedroom. Adora pauses once they are inside, turning to fix Catra with a meaningful look.

“I’m going to go finish arranging the other drawers. Then I need to take care of some things in my office. The incident this morning generated a ton of work. I’ll be gone awhile,” Adora tells her pointedly. She squeezes her hand once, dropping it and stepping around Catra to give her plenty of space as she exists the room.

Catra wavers in place, drawing shaky breathes in the empty bedroom. She listens to Adora make her way down the hall, retreating to Catra’s room and opening the dresser again. The _consideration_ makes the back of her eyes sting, and that is what breaks her and has her crossing the room. She crawls into Adora’s bed, curling into the sheets in relief, feeling her breaths slowly turn steady as she breathes in the comfort.

She listens to the sounds of Adora moving about her room, and then exiting it and settling at her desk. She does not close her office door, and she didn’t close Catra’s either – she knows Catra has taken the invitation and _stayed_. She would have had to pass by the doorway to go anywhere other than Adora’s room. Catra _tries_ to fight her body, but before she knows it she is stretching out in the sheets, kneading against the mattress as she nuzzles into it.

Adora does not know the full story. If she did, she likely would not have invited Catra _here_. But Catra basically just admitted to maiming for information, and she is still letting her stay. Catra knows better than to think what she has done could be _okay_ to anyone, let alone kind-hearted Adora, but she is willing to let her be here even knowing what she does. It is enough reassurance for Catra to swallow down the memories and gradually sink into relaxation.

\--

Catra doesn’t leave her room. After almost two hours, Adora cautiously exits her office and heads downstairs, fixing herself a quick dinner. She doesn’t invite Catra this time. If Catra wants to stay in her room then Adora will be relieved. If Catra needs to take this time to sneak back into her own room, then Adora will let her.

She feels so guilty for reacting how she did. Her mind had so immediately spun out at the sight of the whip, at the word _dominatrix_ , that she wasn’t able to pick up how uncomfortable Catra was until it was too late. Her stupid reactions certainly had not helped when Catra was struggling with that kind of memory. She can hopefully write her response off as reactions to the idea in general and not the idea and _Catra_ together, but she still caused a clearly horrible memory to surface.

Adora can read between the lines. Catra had looked sick even talking about it. She does not know how far things went, for the cover or in what Catra was forced to do for the _job_ , but the answer is clearly _too far_. She can only hope that what she has offered is enough to help ease it for the moment. Enough to offer Catra comfort in a way that gives her the space she needs. Adora is understanding more and more why she asked for distance despite clearly not _wanting_ it.

Adora approaches her bedroom cautiously after she finishes eating. She expects to either find Catra still there, maybe bolting up at the sight of her, or for her to be gone, snuck away while she was eating. She is not expecting to find Catra in the center of the bed, curled in a ball and fast asleep. She feels her heart clench, watching the gentle rise and fall of Catra’s breathing.

Quietly, she crosses the room. She settles on the edge of the bed, as far from Catra as she can manage, and reaches out slowly, gently petting through Catra’s hair how she always liked when they were younger, stroking along her ears. She feels a gentle purr rumble through her, making her own heart clench as she slowly pets over her mane.

She doesn’t know how long they sit like that, but eventually Catra’s purr stutters out and she stirs. Adora lets her hand fall away as Catra raises her head, slowly blinking up at her in confusion. “Were you… petting me?” she asks, voice rough with sleep. Adora feels herself flush, but she nods.

“You liked it when we were kids,” she defends, keeping her voice quiet. Catra blinks at her slowly, clearly still waking up. Adora is a little surprised she has not panicked yet. Her ears twitch as she yawns, slowly stretching towards the edge of the bed.

“… I should go,” she says, voice soft. She does not look at Adora as she speaks, gaze cast down. Adora swallows down the part of her that says _you don’t have to_. She already told Catra her bed was an open offer – she already made her uncomfortable today, thinking of Catra like that and bringing up bad memories.

“Okay,” Adora agrees, trying to keep her voice soft still. Catra’s ear twitches, a small acknowledgement, before she slips off the bed and pads out into the hall. A moment later, Adora hears her door open and close.

She definitely fucked up earlier, but she really hopes she made it right. As right as she could. Catra did not panic, and she may have _left_ , but she didn’t run, especially not from Adora’s initial offer. It either is a testament to how badly she needed the comfort, or it is progress.

Adora can only hope it is the latter.

\--

Catra wakes up just short of screaming that night, desperately gasping into the night air as the traces of her nightmare – her _memories_ – cling against her skin. She huddles in the center of her too-big bed, empty and unfamiliar, forcing the thoughts back down as a metallic taste chokes at her throat.

She hates it. She hates waking up like this every other night. She hates the memories she is forced to confront. She did what she had to in order to survive – but it still _hurts_.

Normally she would get up and pace, or start a short workout to give the adrenaline and lingering sweat a _reason_ to be there. She can’t, not this time. She fears if she stands, her feet will carry her to Adora’s room. She cannot be dependent on her like that. She can’t take the offer she _knows_ Adora still thinks is open. She can’t start relying on it and then lose it when Adora inevitably finds out.

She huddles in her sheets, ignoring how they cling to her sweaty body. She swallows down the panic by tracing the scars on the back of her neck, _reminding_ herself. She made it. They didn’t. She has to live with that – she _can_.

This is just what living with it looks like.

She does not fall asleep again for several hours. It doesn’t matter. She has worked on far less sleep before – she has _killed_ on less sleep before. She can push through. She can do what has to be done. That is how she got here in the first place. Her hands shake as she showers that morning. She tells herself it is from the sleep deprivation, and nothing _mental_. She tells herself it is something fixable, because her mind certainly _isn’t_.

When Adora calls up that breakfast is ready, she puts on her best neutral expression and makes her way down the stairs. Adora frowns at her a little as she comes in, but she does not comment. Catra knows she cannot hide her tiredness from Adora, but hopefully that is all she will take it for.

Over the course of breakfast, Adora needles her and tells her stories of dumb shit she has done with Glimmer and Bow. Slowly, the coil wrapped around Catra’s chest loosens and she finds herself _breathing_ again. When breakfast is over, she hesitates. Adora sends her a questioning look as they head up the stairs to change. Catra does not mean to, but her tail reaches out and wraps around Adora’s wrist. Catra turns away when she hears Adora’s breath stutter, but they stand like that for a long moment while Catra works up the nerve to speak.

“Adora? Thanks,” she murmurs. She flees for her room before Adora can say anything in response. When she emerges, changed into one of her standard black and white suits now, Adora looks at her with soft eyes but says nothing. Catra rolls her eyes at her, trying for dismissive.

“Come on, asshole, we’re going to be late,” she snarks. Adora laughs softly, but she heads down the stairs. Catra follows after her, swallowing down on the warmth in her chest.

It is almost a normal day after that, if not for how Catra can’t take her eyes off Adora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What if therapy.... was just Adora's bed. What is psychology to the love of a woman honestly.  
> The Entrapta lying/honesty thing is part of my autism headcannons for her.


	5. ACT I: The Mall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra needs to get new clothes - there is just a lot of week to get through first.

They don’t end up going shopping until Friday, despite Adora’s threat of _soon_. The week turns out too busy enough without them throwing anything extra onto it.

Catra is a bit tired on Tuesday, but she is still perfectly _alert_. “Glimmer is in your office. And Bow,” Catra warns Adora as they approach her door. Adora pauses, blinking at her in surprise. Catra shrugs. “They have keys, no one else smells like sugar and anger like that, and Bow is humming,” Catra supplies. Adora snorts, reaching for her office handle and not bothering to try to unlock it now she knows.

“That sounds like a band name,” Adora tells her as they walk in. Glimmer startles from where she is curled up on Adora’s sofa, eyes darting between them and raising an eyebrow at Adora's lack of surprise. Catra ignores her, setting about on her security sweep despite how she would _hope_ Bow had done it when he came in with Glimmer. She doesn’t like to rely on assumptions – or other people – and she doesn’t need anyone accusing her of being lax.

“Don’t you have a meeting this morning?” Adora asks Glimmer as she settles in her desk chair, spinning it to face the lounge where Glimmer is seated. Bow makes eye contact with Catra and raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. Catra _knew_ he already did the sweep, but she still huffs as she abandons it, moving to lean against the wall behind Adora’s desk.

“You hardly remember your own meetings, but you know mine? I skipped it. Accounts Payable can bite me,” Glimmer responds, ignoring Catra to send Adora an incredulous look. Adora laughs and Catra _feels_ her ears twitch towards the sound. Luckily no one is looking at her, and her suit jacket covers the way the fur on her arms is standing on end a little.

“I _can’t_ remember my meetings, which is why I check my calendar and see yours on shared view. And Angella’s going to be pissed,” Adora returns. Catra can’t help but snort, turning her head quickly away when it makes Glimmer and Bow glance at her. She can’t believe Adora fooled her that first week into thinking she had any part of her life together. It only lasted until they really started spending time together, but _still_.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I don’t think anyone is going to _tell_ on me,” Glimmer returns. She sounds exasperated. Catra can’t help but glance at Bow. Technically, both she and Bow are privately employed by the Queens, not Alliance. Telling on Adora was never in _her_ orientation though – she certainly would not have let Adora stay with these crazy people if it was – so she knows Bow probably is not actually _obligated_ to tell Angella anything. He still seems to be the kind of upstanding where he would, but if Glimmer isn’t worried about it then neither is she.

“Accounts Payable will absolutely tell on you, they’re dicks,” Adora returns, throwing Glimmer a secretive grin. Glimmer laughs at that, clearly some inside knowledge passing between the two of them on the assholery of the accounting department. Catra feels a twinge and forces it down. Adora pauses, glancing between Glimmer and Bow. “Why are you down here, though? Unless you really are just avoiding Angella seeing you still in your office.”

Glimmer rolls her eyes, immediately dismissive. “Adora. We came to meet Catra, obviously,” Glimmer returns. Catra fights the urge to stiffen, gaze darting between the room’s occupants. Adora blinks in surprise.

“You literally had dinner with her on Sunday. You’ve met _multiple_ times,” Adora points out, because she is an idiot. Catra sighs, pushing off the wall and crossing to sit in the armchair a few feet away from the couch where Glimmer and Bow are practically _cuddling_ together. Juliet had told her Bow was as much Glimmer’s companion as her bodyguard, sending her a pointed look that Catra clearly read as _don’t get any ideas with Adora based off them_.

Yeah, she was certainly heeding that warning. Her skin actually starts to itch if she can’t see Adora for too long.

“She means without formality breathing down our necks,” Catra supplies for Adora. From her position in the chair she can watch Glimmer out of the corner of one eye and Adora with the other. She will have to make it work. Glimmer nods, sending her an appraising look.

“So you were the socially aware one who pulled Adora’s dumbass out of her own messes,” Glimmer deducts. Catra snorts, but nods. Glimmer actually grins, shooting Adora a victorious look. “I _knew_ someone had to be watching your ass before me. There was no way you would have survived that long on your own,” Glimmer tells her.

Adora actually laughs, entirely unoffended, but Catra frowns. “Adora has social skills, she just is unobservant. She always charms the shit out of anyone she meets, she just doesn’t…. notice things,” Catra defends. She feels her face heat as Adora turns to her with a shining expression. Glimmer looks a little surprised, maybe even a bit impressed. Bow just nods sagely in agreement. Glimmer glances between her and Adora. She seems considering, like she is trying to feel them out with just her eyes. Good fucking luck. They are an absolutely tangled mess. She would need a _sword_ to hack through it to _them_.

“You guys aren’t finding things awkward after all this time?” Bow asks as Glimmer tries to just _observe_. Catra blinks, sending a look to Adora. Adora sends her a small smile back, the hopeful one that meant she agreed and was hoping Catra would too. It’s the one she gave Catra when she signed up for the football team try-outs, wanting Catra to join the team too.

She disagreed then. She doesn’t now. Catra flicks her ear, a show of agreement, and Adora beams, the floodgates opening. “We are both different, yeah, but we’re still us,” Adora returns to Bow, blatantly happy. Catra feels herself blush, her tail thudding against the chair and – _goddammit_ – a flustered purr rising in the depths of her chest. If she had slept last night, she reasons, she would be able to control it. As it is, Bow lets out a fucking _coo_ at the same time that Glimmer gasps.

Adora scrambles, panic entering her eyes. “ _Nope_ , no, don’t say anything. You’ll ruin it. It’s- insensitive,” Adora rushes out, sending firm looks to Glimmer and Bow. Bow looks immediately cowed, though his eyes are still big and _soft_ , but Glimmer just looks mildly amused as Adora’s words make Catra’s purr rise louder. Part of it is the consideration, part of it is the relief of being spared the embarrassment, but part of it is her own amusement at what the words remind her of.

Catra clears her throat, forcing her purr down. Adora looks _disappointed_ as Catra turns towards her. “Remember when Scorpia pulled me aside yesterday?” Catra asks her. Adora blinks, curiosity and a bit of excitement at finally _knowing_ blooming on her face. She nods. Catra snickers to herself as she continues, “She knows I hate Cyra, so she always called me Wildcat. When she heard you calling me by my _actual_ name, she thought I told you a nickname was fine and you picked something _racially insensitive_.”

Glimmer bursts out laughing despite not even knowing about her and Scorpia. Adora _stares_ at her for a moment, clearly flustered. Catra’s purr is back as she sinks into her seat. Eventually, Adora seems to get over it, chuckling to herself as she finds the humour in the moment. “Okay, that explains why she looked so mad at me. I mean, mad for Scorpia at least,” Adora concedes. Catra hunches in her seat a little, purr trailing off again.

“Not… exactly,” she admits. Adora’s eyes snap to her, and she realizes they are going to have _this_ conversation in front of _other people_. Catra takes a steadying breath, reminding herself that Adora trusts these two, that they are Adora’s _family_ , and that has to put them a step above everyone else.

“Scorpia has a thing for me. When we worked together, I would practically do a doubletake whenever I saw someone that kind of looked like you. She, uh, thinks blondes are my _type_ or whatever. She doesn’t know I was just always looking for you,” Catra explains, blushing and staring at her feet. She resists the urge to curl her claws into the carpet.

Glimmer is laughing harder now, but she is definitely laughing _at_ Adora. Adora, from what Catra can see out of the corner of her eye while she pretends not to look, seems caught between that soft, shining expression and _jealousy_. Catra can feel it rolling off her, can see it in the way she tucks her hands by her sides as if to hide her clenching fists.

Catra is purring again. She is a _mess_ today. She hasn’t purred in _years_ – six of them, to be exact – but here she is, an utter disaster for Adora. She really hopes the room just reads her purr as _amusement_ rather than downright _satisfaction_. She knew Adora was hung up on her, but that jealousy feels good, especially after her possessive fit on Sunday night.

Glimmer’s secretary is named Perfuma. Catra learned this yesterday – she also learned relationships between members of the executive branch and an employee at any level are strictly forbidden. She is sure she won’t need to use that knowledge – but she likes the assurance of having it just has much as she likes the heat coming off Adora.

“I can’t wait for our next meeting with Entrapta. _All_ of that is hilarious,” Glimmer cuts in to her train of thought. Catra groans, sinking a little in her seat.

“And have Scorpia death-staring at Adora trying to figure out if she’s taking advantage of me or whatever? _Pass_. I can’t even explain us to her because it violates agency policy to know your client,” Catra complains, staring at the ceiling. Adora makes a small choking sound next to her. Catra snorts, raising herself back up enough in the seat to peer over the arm and watch Adora have a small fit. Catra grins at her as she tries to catch her breath.

“What? We are a bit _familiar_ , princess. She thinks you’re trying to get in my pants. She thinks I’m _letting_ you,” Catra points out. Adora flushes, just like she had on Sunday night when Catra had needled her.

“Please stop telling me about who wants to sleep with who, or who _thinks_ I want to sleep with _anyone_. Perfuma was bad enough,” Adora asks her, sending her a desperate look. Catra snorts, but she lowers herself back down in her chair. Fuck, she is tired. She already knows that joke was toeing the line that they both agreed to, but neither of them actually wants.

“What about Perfuma? Who’s sleeping with my secretary?” Glimmer demands. Adora is choking again. Catra laughs softly to herself, giving up on her sprawl and readjusting to sit fully upright so she can look towards Glimmer.

“ _Adora is_ , in her head at least. She wants Adora to-“

“ _Stop_ ,” Adora begs. Catra _grins_ at her, all fangs and bad intentions. Adora is already bright red as it is. “Hearing it once was bad enough. We’re pretending that didn’t happen and I don’t know about it,” Adora tells her.

Glimmer is clearly doing her best not to laugh again. She looks a hair away from breaking. She probably _would_ if both Catra and Bow did not startle at that moment from Juliet’s voice in their ears.

“Where is Glimmer?” comes through the private channel. Catra turns to Bow and raises an eyebrow. Bow looks sheepish as he raises a hand to his ear.

“I’m with her?” he tries. It is the most obvious question Catra has ever heard. She laughs as Glimmer stiffens, turning to look at Bow as she realizes what is going on.

“Where are you _both_?” Juliet returns, sounding exasperated. Catra grins, raising her hand to her own earpiece as Glimmer and Bow exchange a look.

“Adora’s office,” she supplies. Glimmer shoots her a betrayed look. Whatever, she needed some peace and quiet anyway. Adora has shit she has to do today, probably.

Juliet turns her earpiece on again just to sigh heavily down the line.

“You’d better run,” Adora adds from her desk. She sounds amused. Glimmer doesn’t need to be told twice. She flees, dragging Bow behind her.

\--

Catra is tired on Tuesday. Adora can tell she didn’t sleep well, even if she is pushing through it. She doesn’t seem mad despite it definitely being Adora’s fault, she is even weirdly _grateful_ , but Adora is not going to push her to interact with people any more than necessary. She is already shocked by how easily Catra got along with Glimmer and Bow on their morning responsibility-avoidance tour. She was kind of dreading them properly meeting. People tend to pick up on Catra’s defensiveness and misread it as _confrontation_. She would have thought the lack of sleep would make it worse, but maybe it actually helped her let her guard down. Despite getting rid of Glimmer and Bow at the first opportunity, she was able to talk and joke normally while they were there.

Catra follows her around work, and into her meetings, but she does not have to speak to anyone else after Glimmer and Bow. Adora pulls her a seat next to her in the two meetings she has to attend that day, and Catra sits next to her, looking perfectly stony. To the outsider, she might seem like a hardened guard. To Adora, she is dissociating. Catra still seems alert for the day, but Adora is grateful when the workday is over and they can drive home. Catra retreats to her room immediately. Adora does not expect her to re-emerge. She doesn’t, and Adora determines to fill the evening by staying in the house so Catra can have any space or rest she needs. Adora grabs a laptop from her office and sets it up in the kitchen, pulling up one of the recipes she has been meaning to learn and setting to work.

It takes twenty minutes for Catra to come down and ask her what the hell she is doing. She does not seem annoyed by the noise Adora is making, though, so Adora just rolls her eyes and continues to work as she explains.

“I really am a terrible cook, but Angella’s chefs taught me how to make a few go-to recipes, and now I know them back to front. I try to learn new ones slowly. I know about twenty right now. I have to cook something several times before I don’t fuck it up, though. So I’m going to spend the next… few hours, probably, just remaking this one. _Eventually_ we’ll have an edible dinner, don’t worry,” Adora tells her, hunching over the laptop and squinting at the instructions.

Catra stares at her for a long moment before she snorts in amusement and breezes past her, settling in the kitchen nook. Adora turns to look at her questioningly. “What, you think I’m going to pass up tickets to the shitshow? Besides, I need to be here in case you set anything on _fire_ ,” Catra tells her, settling back on the bench and looking downright amused. Adora swallows, opting to nod and turn back to her work.

For the next three hours, Adora makes and re-makes the exact same dish while Catra alternates between lounging in silence, pointing out when she is doing something wrong despite _never having read the recipe_ , or mocking her mercilessly. It makes Adora’s heart feel full, her chest practically bursting and breath periodically catching at how _right_ it all is, Catra slipping back in her life like the piece that was missing from it all along.

After hours of trying, Adora finally produces something that is not just _edible_ but actually pretty good. She presents it to Catra proudly and they eat in relative silence. She does not get any purr tonight, but she does not expect to. Not with the quality of a dish she is just picking up, and not after the multiple she had earned that morning. It has still been a great evening, and Adora goes to bed that night feeling _satisfied_. She doesn’t even have a nightmare, despite being past due for one.

\--

There seems to be rules of logic behind if Catra follows Adora into a meeting, but fuck if she knows what they are. By Wednesday the most she can get is that Adora’s important meetings don’t have an extra seat for her to take. She still joins in on them whenever they involve someone who is not an Alliance employee and thus unscreened, standing over Adora’s shoulder while Adora sends her an apologetic look. Catra does not mind having to stand for an hour. She almost prefers it, because at least when she is _behind_ Adora, she does not distract her.

Catra does not accompany Adora into her third – and thankfully _last_ – meeting of the day. In Alliance, she does not bother to strain her ears in listen in to the meetings. Juliet often calls her away entirely to debrief with her, get an extra pair of hands, or train her further. Juliet is skilled as hell and she runs a tight ship. Catra trusts Adora to be safe enough to leave for half an hour while she sits in a conference room.

Catra returns to the conference room where she left Adora and finds her emerging from it _frayed_ , clearly stressed. Adora looks visibly relieved when she spots Catra, immediately turning to head to her office. Catra follows closely, frowning at the tension in Adora’s shoulders as they walk. Adora is keyed up, clearly stressed and frustrated from whatever went on in the meeting. When they reach Adora’s office, Adora goes straight to her desk and Catra does her sweep, but then she pauses.

“Tea, Adora?” she asks. Adora startles from where she was glaring at her monitor, blinking at her in surprise.

“Uh, sure, if you want,” she agrees, looking _confused_. She had fixed it for herself after her meeting on Monday, so Catra is just relying on it being something that calms her. Adora is not _responding_ like it is, but she also has no concept of letting other people take care of her.

Catra fixes the tea in silence, making herself one as well if only to keep Adora from realizing what she is actually doing. Adora accepts it from her gratefully, but there is still tension in her shoulders. Catra does not know how to _help._ When she is feeling tense like this the only thing that ever helps her is hitting the gym or going for a climb, just to get out the energy.

She pauses. She and Adora are largely the same, when it comes to things like that. They can’t right now, but-

“I think we should go up to the main house tonight. Spar again. That kind of thing needs to be drilled in repeatedly,” she tells Adora, watching her reaction carefully. Adora looks up from her work, making eye contact with her and actually smiling.

“Sounds good,” she agrees. Some of the tension leaks out of her shoulders with her words, just the relief of _knowing_ enough to do a little of the work. Catra settles back in her seat, content she can do _something_ at least.

Most people’s ideas of relaxation is not their friend gently knocking the shit out of them, but Adora has never _relaxed_ in the traditional way – or at all, really. She gets excited as they make their way up the drive to the house that night, and the first time she ends up on the mat she lets out a sigh that is less _air leaving her body_ and more _contentment_.

They move in tandem, Catra keeping her movements purposefully loose and sloppy. It helps throw others off in a fight if you can still control it, but it also sets an example for Adora that is less _precision_ and more _survival_. Nothing is wrong with Adora’s perfect form, except for how obvious it is. She needs to get a bit messier to cover it up – at least until she can learn not to think so much.

Adora does not call stop, this time. Catra _would_ , but she is pretty sure Adora needs this. She lets it keep going until Adora goes down on the mat and lingers there, just catching her breath.

“We’re done, for tonight. You’re going to be stiff tomorrow as is,” Catra tells her, leaning over her and raising an eyebrow, waiting for her to argue. Adora does not really have the breath for that right now though, so instead she _pouts_. Catra rolls her eyes. “Get up, princess. I don’t need Juliet thinking I’ve actually knocked you out,” Catra tells her, reaching down a hand. Adora takes it, though she pulls herself up slowly, clearly getting used to verticality again.

Adora is _hesitant_ as they leave the gym. Catra gives her an obvious side-eye that has Adora sighing. “I want to ask you something, but I don’t want to bring up any bad memories,” she admits. Catra feels herself stiffen, and from Adora’s wince she picks up on it too. Catra swallows, looking quickly away.

“I might not answer,” she concedes. This is dangerous, letting Adora ask questions about her past, but she also does not want Adora’s _guilt_ surfacing again should she refuse. Adora has been doing a good job of _burying_ it at least, but she knows how hard it is to let go of feelings held for that long. Adora is still struggling with it, even if she is not showing it so much anymore.

“On the first day, you mentioned Rogelio’s fighting,” Adora prompts, softly. Catra breathes a sigh of relief, but she does not untense.

“Last I knew, Rogelio and Lonnie were still working together for the Horde. I haven’t heard anything from either of them since I got out,” Catra tells her, answering the real, underlying question. Adora nods, holding the front door open for Catra when they reach it. Catra sends her a glare, but Adora winces. She realizes Adora has misattributed the source of the glare. Shit.

“Even though Rogelio got taken two years before me, he was still shit at hand-to-hand when I arrived. He didn’t want to fight, you know? So anything close enough to _feel_ the results of he struggled with,” Catra tells Adora, offering her _more_ , offering her the assurance that she didn’t go to far. Adora blinks at her, clearly surprised, but then her gaze softens as she nods.

“He was always a big sweetheart. He wasn’t cut out for that kind of work,” Adora agrees. Catra grimaces a little.

“You stay with the Horde long enough, and you _become_ cut out for it. Last I knew he was becoming an expert on poisons. Natural lizardfolk resistance for accidental exposure himself, and you don’t have to _feel_ the damage you do,” Catra tells her. She doesn’t know _why_. This won’t help, isn’t helping, but part of Catra needs her to know. She needs Adora to understand she is not talking about Rogelio, not really.

Adora’s gaze is distantly sad, but she just nods. “I hope he got out too,” she says, voice quiet. Catra feels her hand raising without her bidding it, fingers finding the back of her neck to feel the scar tissue there. She knows Adora watches her, she knows Adora probably puts together _some_ of the connection, but she can’t bring herself to say anything about it.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the first person to leave that place not in a body bag. Don’t- ask me any more names. There isn’t a good answer,” Catra tells her, sighing as her hand falls away. Adora hesitates, and then she reaches out, taking her hand and ducking her head to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry to ask. I just needed to know about them at least. I won’t ask again,” Adora promises her, gentle like she is made of glass and not all sharp angles, designed to cut, and slice, and _kill_ anyone who gets close.

Catra swallows, nodding, and Adora offers her a small smile before dropping her hand. She keeps walking on, making her way down the drive as if Catra has not offered her several violent revelations.

\--

Thursday starts at three AM for Adora, because that is when she wakes from her nightmares. She doesn’t jolt awake, despite the way she usually re-enters the world _screaming_ after she has to watch Catra being taken from her again. She wasn’t there, but Kyle _was_ , and he told Adora through tears about how Catra had fought and scratched until Hordak had struck her hard enough she went limp. In every one of her nightmares about Catra, Catra is screaming her name as she is taken. Kyle told Adora she did it – it was the crux of all her guilty thoughts for the next six years.

Adora almost knocks on Catra’s door, but she does not want to steal more sleep from Catra, not just to assure herself. She stands outside of it, ears straining, until she makes out a slight rustling and soft rumble. She _knows_ Catra is here now, and that should be enough. She ends up where she usually does on nights like this, draped across the couch and mindlessly watching some late-night cooking show to calm her nerves. She lays there long enough the automatic blinds start opening after sunrise. She was not expecting to sleep again, anyway.

And yet, she wakes up to Catra standing over her. Catra looks _concerned_ , but she doesn’t ask. She merely gently prompts Adora to stand and guides her to the kitchen. Catra does not give her much of a choice when it comes to cooking, lightly shoving her into the nook on the side where Catra normally sits– the side with full view of the kitchen. She fixes breakfast for them both while Adora gives up, slumping in her seat and watching Catra through slit eyes.

She is here. She is alive. She is _safe_.

She is shocked when Catra brings their food over and motions for her to scoot down the bench. “I want your warm spot. It’s freezing this morning,” Catra tells her, dismissive and casual as she settles beside Adora on the bench instead of across from her. Adora knows Catra is sensitive to cold, despite her fur, but there is barely a chill in the air. She is not fooled, but she certainly is not going to push Catra to _say_ it.

They eat breakfast with their shoulders brushing. Despite the exhaustion still in her body, it is a good way to start the day. She raises an eyebrow when Catra collects her keys for her after they change, but Catra just continues on to the garage.

“You’re dead on your feet. I’m driving,” she insists. Adora would protest, but she also knows Catra has a point. She dozes a bit in the passenger seat as Catra drives them to work. The workday is hell, but they often are. Glimmer takes one look at her and asks if she slept on the couch. They both know what she means. Adora just nods. Somehow, when she makes her way to her office, her afternoon meetings have been cleared. Adora doesn’t even have a secretary, but the whole family has access to her calendar, as does Perfuma.

Catra makes her tea when she starts to flag throughout the day. For the most part, they sit in her office in silence. Despite how tired she is, the exertion of the day before making her movements stiff in addition to the exhaustion of not having properly slept, it is kind of nice to have a peaceful day without any meetings, sitting in relative silence with Catra.

She remembers that she is supposed to take Catra shopping as Catra drives them home that evening. It isn’t happening today, but she makes a mental note of _tomorrow_.

\--

“You need two weeks’ worth of suits,” Adora tells her as she drives them straight to her tailor after work on Friday. Catra blatantly stares at her – blatantly enough Adora picks up on it without even glancing away from the road. The corner of her mouth quirks up. “I know it’s stupid. But it’s the rule, apparently. I have nearly _twenty_ now. Don’t worry, I’m paying for it,” Adora adds. Catra continues to gape at her.

“You could bulldoze Shadow’s home for that kind of money,” she says. Adora laughs, colour dancing on her cheeks as she shakes her head.

“We _did_. It’s a public park now,” Adora tells her as she pulls into the parking lot. Catra blinks in surprise at her. She knew Shadow’s home had gotten shut down – she had tried to go there to see the bitch herself shortly after she got out, and maybe at least find out what happened to Adora for that last year and a half – but she did not know Adora had anything to do with it. Then again, she did not know Adora had anything to do with the Queens then. It makes sense, now she is thinking about it.

Adora notices her surprise and throws her a satisfied smirk as Catra holds the front door open for her. As soon as the clerk on duty spots Adora he trips over himself to rush forward.

“Ms. Grayskull, an honour as always! Would you like me to fetch one of our female tailors for you?” he asks, beaming up at Adora in the most money-grubbing way possible. Catra has to suppress a twitch of her ears.

“Get Frosta, if she’s on today,” Adora tells him, dismissing him with a wave. The man nods immediately, skittering away into the back. Adora turns to Catra. “Frosta is the daughter of the owners. She is only sixteen and a total asshole. You’ll love her,” Adora promises her as she leads them towards the back. Catra feels a smile twitch at the corner of her mouth. Adora really has her number. People like that clerk make her uncomfortable – assholes she can deal with.

Eventually they are joined by a girl with blue hair, who eyes Catra with obvious confusion. “What do you need today, Adora?” Frosta asks her. Catra feels Adora’s hand on the small of her back, encouraging her forward and even further into Frosta’s focus. She doesn’t _drop it_ even after Catra complies.

“Ten suits, ish. For my bodyguard. Frosta, this is Catra,” Adora introduces. Frosta pauses, looking at her appraisingly before nodding, pulling out her phone and glancing at Catra as she works.

“Purpose, colour scheme, technical alterations? Aside from the obvious hybrid work,” Frosta listens off, not looking up as she types. She seems _bored_. Catra could not ask for a better tailor. She also _doesn’t know the answer_ to any of those questions. She looks towards Adora.

“Business, formal, let’s go with intimidating. We are getting ten, so colour range is fine. Black, gray, red, and maybe blue, I’m thinking. Dark colours for the most part, but we can have bright accents. Nothing pastel. Technical alternations-“ Adora cuts off, turning to look at her. Catra raises an eyebrow.

“I bought this suit off a rack, Adora. Only one of mine is even tailored,” Catra points out. Adora huffs, rolling her eyes.

“She’s talking about secret pockets or anything like that. You aren’t… carrying weapons right now, are you?” Adora asks, eyeing her. Frosta cuts in, looking up at them with obvious disbelief.

“You don’t know if your bodyguard is packing?” she asks, incredulous. Catra snorts, holding up a hand and snapping her claws out. Frosta blinks at her.

“It’s usually unnecessary. But I have throwing knives in my inner pocket,” Catra tells her. Adora does not _startle_ , but she does eye Catra’s jacket.

“Show me,” Frosta requests. Her eyes have lit up in obvious interest. Catra sends Adora a questioning look, but Adora just shrugs, so Catra produces one of the three she is able to fit inside this suit and shows it to Frosta. Frosta eyes it, excited but also appraising. “How many do you need to carry?” she asks.

Catra blinks at her. “Four,” she says, despite the three currently in her pocket. Frosta nods, turning away from her.

“We can add a Kevlar pocket so they won’t damage anything,” Frosta tells her before walking away.

Catra turns to Adora, sending her an incredulous look. “There is a reason I like this place. And Frosta,” Adora tells her. Catra rolls her eyes, but she finds herself _relaxed_ , even when Frosta returns and takes her measurements. This usually sets her on edge, Catra all too aware of how deadly a tape measure can become, but she finds herself able to stand without her fur raising as Adora holds her jacket in the background.

Frosta shows them a selection of eighteen suit options on her phone, leaving them to decide on which designs they approve of as she goes to enter Catra’s measurements in the system. Adora murmurs the colours to her as she scrolls. Catra knocks a few off right away, but it still leaves her with thirteen options.

“Just get them all. They will be better anyway, between the tailoring and the pocket,” Adora tells her with a dismissive wave. Catra cannot help but hesitate, well aware the screen does not even list a _cart total_. Things that are expensive enough to be unpriced are not within Catra’s regular purview.

Adora sighs, taking the phone from her and hitting confirm herself. “I promise we can go to some shitty stores in the mall after this. Trust me when I say that was a drop in the bucket when it comes to my bank account,” Adora promises her. Catra _knows_ that, but she still does not like it. It doesn’t matter. It is done, and she knows that she reflects on Adora. She doesn’t need rich assholes talking bad on Adora because Catra let her pride hold her back from a few suits that don’t really matter.

“I want to shop at the discount rack,” Catra tells her as they close out with the clerk up front. Adora beams at her.

“Deal,” she agrees.

\--

As much as the mall is a significant downgrade from the tailors, they never had the money to be even _here_ as kids. They always wore thrift store clothing, or sometimes donations. Adora has gone thrifting a few times since, but it felt _wrong_ without Catra. She never liked shopping before, when she had to count up every penny and _worry_. She hardly likes it now, but when Glimmer drags her along she often makes it fun. Catra is the same way, it turns out.

Though they couldn’t afford anything there, they still hung out at the mall sometimes when they needed be somewhere other than Shadow’s. Catra ends up taking her hand, pulling her forward when she catches sight of the fountain inside. The mall may be different, but their traditions _aren’t_. Catra’s eyes sparkle when she turns back to Adora, and Adora nods, unable to contain her smile.

They end up buying some fancy chocolates from a nearby stall to get some coins in change, tossing pennies in the fountain. Catra takes her hand again as they toss their coins, because that is _part_ of it, but Adora keeps holding on afterwards, and though Catra flushes, she lets Adora keep her hand as they start to wander, looking for clothing stores that fit Catra’s particular brand of grungy.

They stick out, a bit. Two lesbians in suits, wandering around holding hands while most of the mallgoers are casual families and teenagers at this time of day, but Adora does not _care_. She can tell Catra is on high alert beside her – and she can’t help but remember the fact that Catra has _knives in her jacket_ \- but they also get to joke with each other as they walk. They wander in and back out of a few stores before they find one that satisfies Catra.

Every time Catra finds something she likes, Adora provides a comment on it – on how it would look, on how practical it is, and _always_ on what colour it is. Catra starts accruing pieces, but Adora quickly takes them from her. Catra narrows her eyes as Adora takes the hangers onto her own arm.

“If something does happen, don’t you need to have your hands free? Besides, it’s an arm workout,” Adora points out. Catra visibly sulks, but the next time she picks something up she hands it straight to Adora. Adora counts it as a victory, though she is not actually sure what she is _winning_ right now.

She figures it out when they make it to the dressing room and Catra pulls her into it with her. Adora feels herself flush immediately. Catra rolls her eyes.

“I can’t watch you while you’re out there, and this is the farthest thing from a secured location there is. You know how to turn around. It is not like you haven’t seen my tits _anyway_ ,” Catra tells her as she arranges her selections on the rack. Adora might _die_ , but Catra is right. She would point out she has not seen her naked in six years, but knowing Catra, she might take that as a _challenge_. Adora turns around, facing the wall, grateful for the excuse to hide her fluster.

Unfortunately, the sound of Catra _undressing_ behind her doesn’t help her get any more control. She really hopes Catra is willing to just write this off as Adora being awkward. She doesn’t need to be pressuring her or making her uncomfortable when they are in this small stall together, pop music echoing from the store speakers around them.

“What colour was this, again?” Catra asks from behind her, and Adora takes the cue to turn around.

“Uh, maroon? Really dark red, no purple tones,” Adora tells her, blinking at the tank top Catra has selected. She seems to favour them, these days. That is a security personnel thing Adora has picked up on over the years. They tend to be in full suits, suit pants and tank tops, or all the way down to sportswear. Catra tends more towards _ripped jeans_ than _suit pants_ , but the affinity for tight tank tops has certainly rubbed off on her.

Catra sniffs as she looks at herself in the mirror. “Looks weird with suit pants,” she comments, but she just shrugs and reaches for a pair of black cargo pants she has on the rack. Adora spins on her heel as Catra starts to just take off her pants with no mind. Adora might pass out. She certainly is not going to _live_ through this, not with the sound of Catra’s fly behind her.

“Hm. Better,” Catra hums to herself. Adora takes the risk on turning around and finds Catra fully changed. She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Catra notices and snorts. “Adora. You’ve _seen_ me naked before. We had four roommates in the home. You should be used to this,” Catra points out.

Adora _knows_ she has been an utter disaster, but she really doesn’t want to make Catra uncomfortable. She sighs, pinching her brow for a minute as she forces herself to _get it together_. “It turns out, rich people are kind of prudes about this kind of thing. I’ve been living in that world for the last six years,” Adora points out, but at least her voice is even.

“When he isn’t wearing a suit, Bow’s shirts are cropped almost to his nipples,” Catra points out, raising an eyebrow. Adora opens her mouth and then closes it. Catra snorts, turning to the rack and tugging down a jacket.

“Crop tops are different than being in your underwear together. Also, crop tops are pretty exclusive to the Queens. I’ve never seen them at a _gala_ or anything,” Adora points out, but talking is at least helping her shove down her gut reactions and be normal. She thinks. She hopes. Catra actually laughs at her.

“No, galas are just all skintight evening gowns. Don’t think I haven’t poked around in your closet,” Catra tells her. Adora blinks at her.

“You’ve poked around in my closet?” she asks, because _why?_ Catra flushes, quickly yanking off the jacket she is trying on and turning away to face the rack again. It seems Adora has turned the tables on her, but she is not sure _how_. She does not know why Catra was snooping around her closet, but she is even less sure why she is so embarrassed about it. They are living together, and part of Catra’s job is checking every inch of the house. It is hardly _off limits_ to her.

“You still have stuff from high school,” Catra responds, voice a bit quiet. Adora blinks at her back. _Memories_. That makes a lot of sense, actually. And why Catra is embarrassed about it. A vulnerability, admitting she has feelings.

Catra clears her throat, and then yanks the top she is trying on over her head. Adora spins on her heel. “You could just _say_ you don’t want to talk about it,” she points out. Catra laughs behind her, small but genuine.

“Now where’s the fun in that, princess?” she asks.

\--

“Is it sad or nostalgic to eat dinner in the food court?” Adora asks her as they come wandering out from the third store of the evening. It really is getting late. The mall is going to close soon and Catra is just a little exhausted. Physically they haven’t done much, but staying on alert and having weirdly emotional talks in changing rooms kind of drains her.

“I’ll allow it if you find a place that makes it in front of you,” Catra decides as she follows Adora towards the food court. Adora sends her an incredulous look.

“Catra, no one knows we’re here. Even if they had followed us, they wouldn’t be able to guess which place we would stop at,” Adora points out. Catra levels her with a look that clearly explains she is a _moron_ without any words.

“ _If_ they followed us, then it would be child’s play to slip something into the food before it made its way to us, or even _after_. I know over a dozen different ways to slip pills into a drink _you’re_ holding, Adora. A chef could poison it even with me watching, but someone following us wouldn't have the warning time to replace a chef, so as long as I can keep my eyes on it, I can be assured it is safe,” Catra explains, rolling her eyes. Adora blinks at her. After a moment, Catra realizes all that she has admitted and feels her tail lash behind her.

Adora clears her throat. “The Tai booth in the center of the food court makes it right in front of you and serves it to you where you sit. No one but you and the chef touch it,” Adora tells her, pointing out the booth and just _letting it go_. If Catra was not so grateful, she would ask Adora why the hell she _isn’t asking_. She doesn’t want Adora to come to her senses and do that, though, so she just nods and lets Adora lead them to the booth.

Adora orders an _Adora_ quantity of food for herself. The cashier tries to ring them both up together before Catra has even ordered hers. Adora isn’t even embarrassed by it, despite how Catra snickers over her shoulder as Adora hurries to stop him. They settle on stools at the stall countertop while Catra closely watches their food being made. Nothing happens – not that she _expects_ it to – and when the chef passes them their food Adora accepts it graciously.

“Happy?” she asks Catra as she unloads the tray for them. Catra rolls her eyes, but she nods as she takes her food. She takes her first bite and _trills_ in surprise. Adora’s eyes snap to her, a smile lighting up her face so instantly she practically glows.

“So your weakness is good food, huh?” she questions. Catra sulks where she sits and says nothing as she continues to eat. At least the chef is glowing with pride as he shuffles over to a different stove top to start fixing food in front of his next customer.

The problem is _no_ , good food is not her weakness. She has had five-star meals that blew everything she experienced before or after out of the water, back when she had to do undercover work to approach targets. Catra never even had to suppress a reaction then. No, the consistent factor these last two times were surprise and _Adora_.

“We should head back after this,” Catra deflects, instead of answering. Adora smirks to her, but she nods.

\--

Adora helps Catra hang up her new things when they arrive home, but after that Catra shoos her away, seeming a bit flustered. Adora goes without complaint, retreating to her own room. Her own _closet_.

She sifts through the clothes she knows for certain are from high school – that she knows for certain Catra would recognize, too. She ends up pulling a spirit shirt for her high school football team that used to be fitted and now is just _tight_. She still has not gotten rid of it, clinging to the good memories that she has of her team, rather than the one game that was her biggest regret in life. Catra always tried to go to all her games. She hopes this shirt brings up _those_ memories for her.

She sets the shirt aside, knowing she will have to be sneaky about this if she is going to do it in a way that Catra does not freeze out. She is well aware Catra can hear her just about anywhere in the house, so she probably can’t sneak the shirt into her room unnoticed, but she might be able to sneak it in with the rest of Catra’s laundry. Then she can rationalize it as an accident too, if Catra finds it to be overstepping.

Adora has no idea what overstepping is, really. Not when it comes to her and Catra. She is just going to keep offering until she finds a limit – and then she will move on to testing for the next one. For tonight, she just sets the shirt aside to be slipped into the laundry room the next time Catra does a load.

Adora changes into her night clothes, despite it not really being that late now. She is tired from staying out all day, and being with Catra so casually was a special kind of exciting that was energizing at the time, but draining now she is _alone_ again and missing her presence, despite her being just down the hall.

She should have known, pulling her football shirt right before bed, that she would have nightmares.

\--

Catra wakes up to Adora screaming, anguish echoing down the halls. It is a sound she has heard a lot, but usually only in her dreams. Usually she is the one causing it.

She bolts out of bed, claws out and flying down the hall on instinct as fear and adrenaline grip her. Her heart is pounding, claws digging into the floor from how fast she sprints to Adora’s door and flings it open.

Adora is sitting up in her bed, clutching herself and alone. She startles to look up at Catra as she bursts in the room, letting out a small shout of surprise before their eyes find each other, panic meeting panic. Adora looks _afraid_ , sweating and her heart pounding, but she is alone in her bed, sheets mangled around her. After a second of staring at each other, Adora seems to really register her, blatant relief flooding her gaze.

“I’m- sorry,” Adora gasps out, wincing. She is apologetic, sheepish, already curling in on herself in shame despite how fast her breath is still coming. “It was just a nightmare. You can go back to bed,” Adora promises her, voice weak as her chest heaves. Catra can see tears still pricked at the corner of her eyes despite how she is staring at her knees.

She is safe. Not _okay_ , but Catra knows a thing or two about living with the demons in your head. Adora is strong enough to do it. Catra remembers how tired she had looked on Thursday, watching her with almost desperate eyes whenever Catra was in the room. Despite telling Catra she could leave, she is looking at her the same way now. Catra can fill in the lines of what the nightmare was about.

Catra forces her own panic down, willing her heartbeat to slow as she retracts her claws. She takes a steadying breath, forcing her body calm as she sweeps her tail back to shut the door firmly behind her. Adora _offered_ before and Catra couldn’t take it then – but this time it is not selfish. This time it is for Adora. Maybe _this_ Adora can forgive when she inevitably finds out the truth.

Adora looks up, still gasping and blinking at her in surprise as Catra crosses the room in quick strides, before she can talk herself out of it. She crawls into the bed beside Adora, placing a hand on her shoulder and pushing until Adora takes the hint to lie back, blinking up at her in her uncertain confusion.

Adora’s breath stutters as Catra lays beside her, curling into her side and burying her nose in Adora’s shoulder, breathing deep to kickstart her purr despite the way her own heart is still going too fast. Adora’s breathing turns a little ragged, but she is no longer fighting for it. After a moment, Adora twists the arm Catra is tucked in against to curl around her and clutch at her desperately. Catra can smell salt on the air.

“Stay,” Adora asks, softly, her voice strained. Catra swallows and nods into her shoulder. Adora needs this, but Catra was not going to fall back asleep in her own bed anyway, not with Adora’s distraught scream still echoing in her ears. Adora releases a breath of relief, her other hand coming up to land in Catra’s hair. She cuddles Catra close, pulling her in despite how Catra has already curled around her. If she was not so strung out from the interruption to her sleep and sudden burst of adrenaline, Catra might panic. As it is, she melts into the touch, nudging in close and purring, if weakly.

It is everything she wants, really. Adora touching her, holding her, needing her and surrounding her. She knows she should not let herself have it – but she can let Adora have _her_. She needs to. If Catra enjoys it too, if it helps her sleep too – that is coincidental. Accidental and unimportant.

In the morning, she wakes with Adora wrapped around her and her heart clenches painfully. She still doesn’t leave, not with Adora snoring softly next to her.


	6. ACT I: The Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra tries really hard to convince herself she isn't sleeping in Adora's bed - it works on herself, at least, and Adora is nice enough not to say anything about it. Or maybe just overworked enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perfuma is a trans woman, as always.

Adora wakes up to the sound of Catra’s yawn, a long rasp with a bit of squeak to it. It kind of sounds like a rusty screen door creaking open. It makes her chest clench and throat just a little tight. She doesn’t open her eyes – she doesn’t _dare_ – but she pulls Catra in closer against her chest. Catra huffs a little, but she lets herself be pulled in. It gives Adora the courage to open her eyes.

Soft morning light is filtering through the window, free of the automatic blinds. Catra is stretched out beside Adora, turned towards her with her face tucked into her neck. Adora had been clutching her close when she fell asleep, assuring herself Catra was _there_ , but during the night she has totally wrapped around her. Catra’s breath puffs hot against Adora’s throat, her tail draped over her hip. When Adora’s eyes find the clock, she realizes it is past ten.

“You’re lucky it’s Saturday,” Catra tells her. Her voice has none of the roughness of sleep. She has been awake for a while, waiting for Adora, _cuddled_ with her. Adora swallows the lump in her throat at the realization, holding Catra’s warmth close in against her. Before last night, she never would have thought Catra was ready for this. They haven’t even _hugged_ yet, but here they are. Even before, they never took the risk of falling asleep like this. Catra was usually curled against her legs.

“Angella would understand,” Adora manages to reply. Catra snorts, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t _leave_. She doesn’t run, she just lets Adora hold her. Adora needs to stop thinking about that, actually, because she might hyperventilate, and that would totally ruin the mood. She did not think there _could_ be a mood when she woke up last night with her cry for Catra being ripped from her throat, but this moment is _warm_ , softness in her arms and her heart.

“Do you get those a lot?” Catra asks, her voice quiet. Adora knows what she is asking. She tightens her arms a little and huffs a laugh. _A lot_. Yeah, she would say so. She doesn’t need to say _how_ much, though. She doesn’t want to worry Catra.

“Every few days, usually. Managed not to actually scream the last two times, but it looks like I broke my streak,” Adora tells her. There were times when it was nightly – when it was _multiple times a night_ , sleep a concept she no longer understood – but time has lessened the flow of blood from the wound. It is still open and raw usually, but right now she has the bandage pressed against her chest.

Catra does not say anything, she just nudges a bit closer in Adora’s arms. Though it is the first time they have held each other since reuniting, it, like most things, it just feels right again. Adora is not ready to let this go. She clutches Catra close in against her, tucking her face down into her mane.

“Was it about me?” Catra asks, softly. Adora hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She can’t lie, not about this and not to Catra, but Catra told her that guilt doesn’t help. This is not just guilt, this is deep-seated fear and trauma, but she is trying to respect her boundaries. Catra releases a shaking breath. “You looked really relieved to see me,” she elaborates. Adora bites the bullet and nods.

“Sometimes- I watch you get taken. Or what might have happened to you, after he took you. That one was you getting taken again, but from the guest room. I- They aren’t always you. Sometimes it is about my parents. Or memories of Shadow,” Adora tells her. She does not think it will make her feel better, but it is the truth. Catra nods against her neck. She still makes no move to go.

“If you have one of those, you can come see me to make sure, you know. I get them too,” Catra tells her, softly. The _I understand_ doesn’t need to be said. Adora sucks in a breath. She has so much she wants to say but she is so scared. She is going to ruin this – this moment, and everything they have cautiously built over the last two weeks – but the words just come pouring out.

“You said you need space. I don’t want to do the wrong thing and make you uncomfortable. I can't _lose you_ again,” Adora rushes out, into her hair. It gives away her fears, placing their weight on Catra as well. She fully expects Catra to pull away. She fully expects Catra to _run_. This is too much. Catra stills as she speaks, lying stiff. After a moment, she shifts in her arms, shuffling up on the bed to rest her head on the pillow beside Adora and look at her.

She looks just as scared as Adora feels. “Adora,” she starts, stops to clear her throat when it comes out as a rasp. “I’m not leaving this house, okay? I’m going to leave this bed, I have to. But unless you get Juliet to storm the place and drag my ass out onto the lawn, you are not getting rid of me. _Nothing_ you do is going to make you lose me.”

Adora feels lightheaded, her chest tight as she stares at Catra, only inches between them. Adora has been terrified of losing Catra _always_ , Shadow or Hordak lurking in the background, but she has been afraid of driving Catra away herself ever since she realized her feelings were not _platonic_ back in eighth grade. She tried to pull back from saying stuff like this, afraid of making Catra uncomfortable, but Catra is not running, Catra does not think she will _ever_ run.

Catra bites her lip. "I asked for space. I need it when it comes to stuff like sleeping together. But you can- Maybe that first day you couldn’t, but now you can just assume if it was okay before then it is okay now, at least when I’m not supposed to be on duty. And if it is not okay, I’ll stop you. Or you can _ask_ and I will tell you,” Catra continues.

Adora stares at Catra, swallowing as she _processes_. She struggles still, five years out of that place, to ask for things and find them _given_ instead of reprimands and lashes. She has felt so guilty for the past six years, walking around with Catra's scream echoing in her ears. She never felt she deserved anything she wanted, but she remembers going to Angella and _asking_ , not yet eighteen and terrified Catra was gone for good, for help to find her. If it is for Catra, if it is to _get_ Catra - Adora can ask. For Catra, Adora would beg gladly and willingly. 

Adora pauses, eyes finally darting away from Catra to land on the closet door. Catra said she was going to leave the bed, but she hasn’t _yet_. “Wait here,” Adora tells her, a bit of a question. Catra’s brows draw together in confusion, but she nods, releasing Adora where her own limbs are wrapped around her. Catra sits up in the bed, but she stays there as she watches Adora go. Adora walks to the closet with heavy steps, finding the shirt she had pulled aside the night before.

She comes back to find Catra watching her curiously, eyes darting between the clothing in Adora’s hands and her face as if that will solve the puzzle. Adora starts to cautiously approach the bed, but she remembers Catra’s words and shakes herself, striding forward and climbing up to sit next to Catra, only a few inches between them, like they had been that first day. After a moment, Adora shuffles closer until her knees are brushing Catra.

“You mentioned my clothes from high school, but I didn’t think you would just _accept_ something if you even wanted it. I was going to sneak it into your laundry. I could have put it down to an accident if it made you uncomfortable, then,” Adora tells her, looking down at the shirt in her hands and putting all her faith in the fact that this time, Catra is saying what she truly wants. That she _needs_ Adora to tell the truth.

Catra is silent for a moment. Adora does not dare look up, not until clawed hands reach out and gently take the shirt from her. Adora startles, looking up to find Catra’s eyes shining as she stares down at the shirt herself now. “I won’t wear it out of the house – but I want it,” Catra tells her, softly. Adora’s chest might _explode_ at this rate.

“Can I hug you?” she asks, a little breathless. Hugs were not something they did often before – hugs were _weak_ – but they did hug and even cuddle _sometimes_. Catra actually laughs softly, her eyes dancing as she meets Adora’s gaze.

“Not always, but sometimes – right _now_ \- yeah, you can,” Catra returns. Adora is pulling her into her arms as soon as she finishes speaking, tucking her under her chin and breathing a sigh of relief at the feeling of Catra against her, knowing she will get to feel this _again_.

\--

Adora spends that rest of the day asking questions, but none of the ones Catra is afraid to answer. When they finally extract themselves from each other, Adora asks if she will sleep in the bed again. Catra tells her no – not unless Adora has another nightmare and needs her. Adora does not look surprised, she just nods. When they change – when Catra pulls on Adora’s shirt, reveling in the softness and the scent – they go down to breakfast and Adora asks if she can sit next to her again. Catra says yes, but she stops her as she goes to actually do it.

“Touches like this, I’m comfortable with. Sitting next to each other like we used to and that kind of thing. Hugs are a lot,” Catra tells her. Adora nods seriously as she sits, like she is taking mental notes. Catra knows she _is_ , fleshing out a picture in her head of how they are allowed to interact.

Catra _almost_ adds that she does not want Adora to be afraid to touch her, but despite being _true,_ she cannot do that to herself. These casual brushes she has lived with and then lived without – she can go without them again, when Adora inevitably finds out and feels too sick to touch her. If she opened _those_ floodgates, she knows she would not recover when she lost it.

It goes like that for the rest of the day. They do not leave the house, despite Glimmer calling Adora for a movie night with her and Bow. Adora tells her she slept on the couch and she just needs to rest today – Glimmer drops it instantly, coded language understood, but Adora is far from tired. She just is unwilling to stop touching Catra now. She also, Catra suspects, does not want her to _change_.

Adora builds two lists, throughout the weekend. The _okay in_ _public_ list – which is pretty much where they already were after a week anyway – and the _okay inside the house_ list. Catra needs to be professional with Adora, true, but that is not all of it. Even after being out for three years, the idea of being weak, being vulnerable, scares her. Nothing is weaker than relying on another – no vulnerability is more easily exploited than love. She wouldn’t feel _safe_ showing others she cares about Adora.

Luckily, it is easy to pretend. Her entire job is caring for Adora’s well-being – she can pass off most concerns as her just doing what she is paid to. Still, if she doesn’t want Angella _firing_ her, they need to be discreet. It is training, also. During the evenings and night she can let herself have Adora – let Adora have her – _almost_ the way she wants to. During the days, things go back to how they will inevitably be when Adora finds it all out. It will help her from getting too used to it.

Catra sleeps in her own bed Saturday night, but she does it in Adora’s shirt. She doesn’t have any nightmares, and come morning Adora asks her if she wants to go hiking again after their sparring session. Catra agrees, settling on the bench of the kitchen nook beside her without either of them asking this time.

That night, when Adora has a nightmare, Catra is prepared. Adora does not scream this time, but she cries out and it wakes Catra just the same. Catra runs down the hall, but she does not sprint, and she takes the time to open Adora’s door instead of just flinging it open.

Adora is on her side this time, the scent of fear thick in the room as she curls in on herself. Her eyes snap open when Catra opens the door, a soft sound of panic starting and dying in her throat. She still looks scared, but she does not start up from her spot.

Catra turns and closes the door, crossing the room in soft steps as she climbs into the bed. It is Monday morning, now. Even if Adora did not have work in a few hours, having to act with all the grace and pressure of a high-power executive, Catra would still crawl into her arms. Adora uncurls from her spot, lying on her side and accepting Catra into her arms gratefully. Catra does not let herself second guess it as she nuzzles into Adora’s sweaty neck, letting out her own sigh of relief as her purr begins.

“Thank you,” Adora breathes, voice soft. Catra just lets her rumble rise a bit louder as Adora pulls her close. She can’t admit to herself how nice this is for her, too. How _rested_ she had felt when she woke up Saturday morning. She is here for Adora. Her whole _job_ is to take care of her and keep her safe, after all. This is what Adora needs to feel safe.

When she wakes to Adora’s alarm a few hours later and Adora snuggles in against her with a groan of annoyance, that argument seems pretty weak. Especially when she realizes her tail is wrapped around Adora’s leg. Adora does not comment though, not on how close Catra is curled in or how her purr dies the instant she pulls out of Adora’s arm.

She feels Adora’s eyes on her back as she pads from the room to get ready.

\--

Catra insists on driving them on Monday again, despite Adora having slept better the night before than she has on her own in years. She is not tired, but she lets Catra have her way. The nightmare wasn’t bad, as far as they go, and having Catra there brought her back down. Having Catra in her _arms_ like that had brought her peace. Waking up to Catra laughing at her reluctance to get out of bed and ruin the moment was all she needed to be happy for the rest of the day.

She kind of needs the time of the car ride to look at her emails and calendar, anyway. She did not check them once over the weekend – not that she is required to, but she always _does_ – and she has a lot of notifications to go over before she gets in and has to actually deal with the results of them. She sees her first meeting of the day and immediately groans. From the driver’s seat, Catra’s ear twitches at the sound.

“So you know how there’s the _okay in public_ list and it’s a lot shorter than the _in_ _private_ list?” Adora asks, opening up her nine AM slot. The corner of Catra’s mouth quirks up, but she nods. Adora does her best to not glower at her phone. “How much shorter is the _okay in front of Scorpia_ list? I have a meeting with Entrapta and Glimmer first thing to deal with the corporate blacklist investigation,” Adora asks.

Adora loves Entrapta. She even likes Scorpia, in the last year she has gotten to know her. She just already doesn’t want to act _professional_ with Catra once they reach work. She does not know how she is going to manage _detached_ , but she also knows Catra could get in trouble with her agency if they found out that the two of them were best friends.

Catra snorts from the driver’s seat. “You shouldn’t really be touching your bodyguard anyway, but especially not in front of Scorpia, who _knows_ that. Glimmer and Bow are some freak case that has desensitized everyone at Alliance, but Scorpia already thinks you’re trying to get in my bed, anyway,” Catra tells her. Adora pouts a little in the passenger seat.

“I’m trying to get _you_ in _my_ bed, actually, but if your bed is the one you’re comfortable with-“ Adora tells her, hoping it comes across as joking rather than overbearing. By the way Catra laughs, she thinks it lands.

“Your bed is memory foam. Trust me, princess, I would rather be in it,” Catra tells her, smile quirking at her mouth. After a moment she seems to realize what she said and flushes, her tail lashing against her leg. Adora wants to say _then sleep with me_ but she knows that would be too far. Catra has opened up a lot over the weekend – she is not a patient person, but she can wait. This is a question she has already asked, and Catra gave her answer. 

“We’re here,” Catra announces, a bit hastily, clearly trying to derail Adora from saying anything more as they pull up. She already was not going to, but she lets it go. They have just enough time to pop into Adora’s office, Catra doing her sweep and Adora setting a few things up on her computer, before they have to head over to Glimmer’s office.

Adora’s office is a door in a hallway. It is large and expansive – a converted conference room, actually, so they would have room to add the private bathroom and break room extension that kept Adora cordoned off back when she didn’t have a guard – but it is not _Glimmer’s_ office. Glimmer has a separate waiting area outside of her office, Perfuma’s station taking up one corner of it almost as her own private office.

Adora almost opens the door for Catra as they approach, but she remembers just in time to not-too awkwardly step aside. Catra sends her a _really?_ look, but she sweeps past Adora and opens the door to the waiting area for her. Bow is there, chatting with Perfuma as they enter. He waves cheerfully to them both.

“Good morning! I’ve already swept the room, and Glimmer is waiting for you, Adora,” Bow tells them. Adora hesitates, glancing between Bow and Catra. His _intentions_ are clear, even if she is not sure of the reasons. Catra looks a little stiff but mostly impassive.

“Stealing my bodyguard from me, Bow?” she settles on asking. Catra usually accompanies her into meetings with clients, or anyone not directly employed by Alliance, actually. They have known Entrapta for years, ever since they invested in her when Adora first started hanging around Alliance before starting college, but it still is the assumed protocol. Bow laughs, looking at Catra a little hopefully.

“We haven’t gotten to bond, and we all know Entrapta is good. Plus, Catra’s friends with Scorpia, right? We can all hang out in the waiting room. If anything goes wrong Catra will hear it, anyway,” Bow tells her. Adora pauses, turning to Catra and tilting her head. Catra shrugs. She still looks a bit stiff, carefully indifferent. Adora does not know _why_ , because Entrapta is not here yet and Bow _knows_. She sighs, turning back to Bow.

“Alright. Send Entrapta in when she gets here,” Adora concedes. She has to trust Catra will intervene – if she is uncomfortable, or if something were to happen. Maybe she and Bow will get along, anyway. Bow is really easy to befriend, and they seem to have worked well together under Juliet so far. Catra has not complained about him when she came back, at least.

“Way ahead of you!” Perfuma chimes in happily. Adora blinks over towards her desk. She has been making an active mental effort to avoid thinking about anything Perfuma-related ever since Catra told her about her _daydreams_. Apparently it was working too well, because she kind of forgot she was there at all. Suddenly, Adora understands why Catra is being stiff. She was always jealous of any time Adora spent with other people, even friends. She can only imagine how Catra would react if she got a _girlfriend_.

“Uh, right, thanks,” Adora manages, awkwardly, not looking Perfuma in the eye and hurrying on into Glimmer’s office. At least in there she does not have to see Perfuma beaming up at her or Catra’s stiffness.

\--

Bow pulls her onto the couch beside Perfuma’s desk immediately, despite _knowing_ what Catra said about Perfuma. He has no reason to think that bothers Catra, though, so he just beams at her as he sits.

“So how have things been going? You guys didn’t come to dinner at all this weekend,” Bow asks, looking _sad_ at the thought. Catra raises an eyebrow at him.

“Adora slept on the couch a lot this week. She wasn’t up to socialization. I went to the Blues with her and we did a little sparring, but she mostly just stayed home,” Catra tells him. She is well-aware of Perfuma listening in the background a little _too_ intently.

“You go with Adora everywhere, right?” Perfuma asks, leaning forward to place her hands on her chin, looking _eager_. Catra suppresses an eye twitch. _She_ was the one in Adora’s bed last night, she reminds herself.

“Bow and I have the exact same job,” she points out. Perfuma _knows_ how this works, she has been Glimmer’s secretary for a year now, and she was her assistant before that, when Glimmer only worked at the company part-time as she finished school. Perfuma knows all the details of this arrangement.

“Yes, but Bow and Glimmer were companions first. They were always together long before Bow trained to become her guard. I didn’t know if you would be with Adora as much as they are together,” Perfuma counters. Catra should keep her fucking mouth shut. The fewer people who know the better - but the problem is she already knows Perfuma is aware of their history, and with that gate opened she cannot keep her mouth shut.

“We grew up in the same _bed_ together. We were _companions_ before Glimmer and Bow _met_ ,” Catra shoots back, eyes narrowing. Bow raises his eyebrows at her aggression – he is far too soft for this life, and especially for _Catra_ – but Perfuma startles back, blinking at her and _flushing_ a little. Embarrassed, definitely, but Catra swears there is more there. It is hard to tell – the HRT makes all her scent signals a bit off.

Catra slumps back in her seat, forcing her aggression down. Her point was made, anyway. _She was in Adora’s bed last night_ , she reminds herself. Fuck, she is an utter mess. She has always been like this when it comes to Adora, though. She can _feel_ embarrassment coming off Perfuma. They are saved from further discussion – and further attempts at _bonding_ – by Entrapta arriving. Catra actually breathes a sigh of relief as Perfuma nearly trips over herself to greet Entrapta – and, to her surprise, Scorpia.

Perfuma’s reaction to Scorpia is instant. Catra has her number. It is the muscles that do it for her. Catra won’t call her shallow – she is the same _way_ when it comes to Adora – but for Perfuma it is not about Adora and more about her body. For some reason, that soothes Catra. She knows Adora is not interested anyway, but she never _would_ be in that kind of relationship. Adora needs someone who sees her, who _challenges_ her.

Perfuma flushes when she realizes Scorpia is _staying_ and crowding on the couch next to Catra. Catra just sighs as she ends up squeezed against Scorpia’s side. She is used to this, unfortunately, between Scorpia’s crushing “reunion” hugs every time they saw each other at the agency and being shoved in the backseat of the sedan together during their first job. At least Scorpia is sitting between her and Perfuma now.

“So, Wildcat, how was your weekend?” Scorpia asks, nudging her. Her eyes are bright, excitable, but Catra can see that edge of concern there too. Catra can’t answer her question in any way that won’t seem like it confirms her fears, however.

“I beat up Adora and then we went hiking,” Catra returns, disinterested. Scorpia blinks at her, sending an inquisitive look to Bow. Catra has to suppress a snicker at her downright _confused_ look.

“Catra is training Adora in self-defense,” he explains. Scorpia breathes a visible sigh of relief that has Catra snickering outright. Scorpia pauses, surveying her carefully. Scorpia is observant about social stuff, but Catra is a goddamn actress at this point. She isn't worried about giving anything away herself. Bow knows the truth, luckily, and Catra is mildly relieved when he jumps in.

“Scorpia, did you really think Adora made up the name Catra to be _insensitive_?” he asks, sounding mildly amused. Scorpia blinks, shrinking in her spot a bit sheepishly.

“I didn’t know! Adora is really nice, but aside from _me_ I haven’t really seen her interact with any hybrids, and I didn’t know why else she would have chosen _cat_ ,” Scorpia defends, whining a little bit as she shrinks. She is a hulking mass – the slouching does nothing. Bow looks like he is trying to be understanding, but he clearly feels a need to defend Adora as well. Ordinarily, Catra would too, but Adora is so far from anti-hybrid it is just _funny_ to suggest she is.

“Scorpia, Alliance was always dedicated to being a fair employer, but Adora personally doubled our hybrid-inclusion policy before she even signed onto the company. She started suggesting changes when she was _nineteen_ ,” Bow tells her. Catra feels her ears twitch, side-eyeing Bow as she processes that information. It is not surprising, but it is new. Scorpia blinks in surprise.

“What did she change that _doubled_ it?” Scorpia asks. Bow practically shines with pride and Catra decides that he is okay after all. She already knew he was decent, but she likes how much he cares about Adora.

“It was a lot of stuff that none of the humans on staff would have thought of, and none of the hybrids mentioned because they were used to it in public places already. Like decibel limits on sound played over speakers and changing to scentless cleaners. We even have a company policy limiting the amount of perfume people can use,” Bow explains. Catra can’t help but smile to herself. It is so _Adora_ to think of all the little things that used to bother Catra and _rewrite company policy_ around them.

“Now that I know she grew up with Catra, I finally understand how she _knew_ all those things. I mean, if her hearing is good enough to hear paper in another _room,_ the decibel limits just make sense," Perfuma muses from beside Scorpia. Catra feels herself stiffen, ears pinning back. Beside her, Bow looks semi-panicked. Out of the corner of her eye, Catra can see _confusion_ on Scorpia’s face.

“Wildcat?” she asks, sounding _worried_. Catra bolts up from the couch, crossing the room to pace at the far end. She knows it isn’t _helping_ , but her tail is lashing and she can’t control it. She hears Bow tell Scorpia to drop it, but she knows that won’t work, not for long. She turns away, taking a deep breath, and steps back towards Scorpia. She still hangs back a few feet, eyeing her. Scorpia looks _hurt_ , which she does not quite understand, but her worry is obvious. Catra sighs, crossing her arms and looking away to speak.

“Adora and I were best friends as kids. I told you I was a mercenary. Cyra is a cover alias I picked up afterwards to leave that life behind. Adora had no idea she was hiring _me_ when she reached out to the agency since she knew me by my real name before,” Catra explains to her, not looking in Scorpia’s direction. Scorpia is silent for several long moments.

“But… _you_ knew who was hiring you,” Scorpia says, slow and unsure like a question. Catra’s ears are pointed straight _down_. She makes eye contact with Scorpia and lets her mask slip a little, lets the desperation into her eyes, if only to convince her.

“I missed her,” she whispers. “We were together every second of our lives until- until I was seventeen. I hadn’t seen her in six years when she hired me. I was always looking out for her, but- she found me,” she explains, voice hushed. They are alone, but she does not want _anyone_ to overhear this. Bad enough that Perfuma is watching with shining eyes, feeling _sorry_ for her. She puts the walls back up. She hates being felt _sorry_ for.

“It doesn’t matter if you tell the agency. Adora will just hire me herself. I’ve started over before anyway. I'll be _fine_ ,” Catra tells her, dismissive but _hoping_. She knows it is true, but she would still _like_ to just ride this out until the contract is up and it can be a peaceful transition. She thinks Scorpia will give her that. She chances a look at Scorpia. Scorpia’s shoulders are slumped a little. She looks hurt and conflicted, but she is clearly _deciding_. Catra will take it for now, even if her tail is still twitching with nerves.

Bow's eyes dart between them, clearly unsure, before he lightly places a hand on Scorpia's shoulder. Scorpia looks up at him, a little _lost_ , like she is expecting him to tell her what to do. "I know your agency has a policy, but isn't your main duty to your client? Catra and Adora are close. If you make Catra lose her job, it is going to make things awkward between Adora and Entrapta," Bow points out. Catra stares at him in blatant shock. She did not think he was capable of _manipulation_.

Bow's eyes are open and honest when they meet Scorpia's. Catra realizes he _isn't_ manipulating her, not really. He is intelligent and socially aware - a rare combination - and he really is just thinking through all the ways this situation could get _messy_. Anyone else, and Catra might now believe it, but she has only even seen him be gentle and kind in the last two weeks. The logic seems to work. Scorpia's eyes soften. She squares her shoulders and looks up to Catra.

"You're leaving the agency when the contract is up, anyway," she reasons. Catra nods, feeling her tail wrap around her legs as if that will hold the hope back. Scorpia bites her lip, but she nods to Catra. "I won't tell. Like you said, it wouldn’t matter. I don’t want to make things harder on you," Scorpia tells her. Catra releases a breath she was pretending not to be holding, collapsing into an armchair a few feet from the couch. She can't _say_ it, but she sends Scorpia a grateful look and Scorpia meets her with a soft, shining expression that makes Catra's fur itch for some reason.

Catra covers her discomfort with a cough, turning away. Luckily, Bow jumps in with a prompt and sets Scorpia off on a happy tangent that then has Perfuma jumping in as well. Catra breathes a sigh of relief. She is already feeling drained, having to be vulnerable and go through _that_ conversation at nine AM. Even if Scorpia agreed not to say anything, Catra needs time to recover. Her fur is still itching, and unfortunately she knows why, now.

Even though she is _sure_ Adora would hire Catra herself, she would have lost not just a job, but a friend in the process. That thought is too heavy for a Monday morning. She closes her eyes and focuses in on the sound of Adora’s voice through the door to soothe her frayed nerves.

\--

“We were able to trace the bank accounts they were using to offer the buy-in. Going back to the source, they both belong to another company, Prime Industries. Old industrial-age company. They claim to make machine parts, but their finances don't add up,” Glimmer explains to Entrapta, opening up the folder Adora and Juliet had put together on Friday.

This whole situation was a _mess_. While the two representatives had been working together, when Alliance reached out to their respective companies, they found neither even knew that Eternia Industries was hosting a meeting that day. It had been easy to determine they were just middlemen using their companies' credentials. Who they were actually working for, and how they had managed to falsely put in bids, was the question they were chasing now. Adora is determined to know who tried to fuck her and Entrapta over.

“Looking at the specs they were passing back and forth, I may have an answer for why that is. I think perhaps they were intending to reverse engineer it. It is _possible_ that Prime Industries is into some shady business on the side,” Entrapta explains, pulling up scans of the documents on her tablet and launching into an explanation of what each note means. It goes way over Adora’s head, and Glimmer looks a bit lost, too, but the point is clear: this was a calculated effort at analyzing the new platform's design at the very least.

“I see no explanation other than them wishing to reverse engineer it to sell their own version. These look like preliminary notes on specifications based on what details I provided each of them. I always keep the specifics private, you know, only sharing the specs relevant to the customer's intended purpose. That is why two representatives were needed, to get a better picture of the details, likely to prepare the proper equipment for reproducing it. If they had eventually bought the mainframe, I am certain they intended to deconstruct it,” Entrapta concludes, maybe picking up in the dazed looks that a _summary_ is necessary.

“We can pass it onto the authorities, but trust me when I say we will investigate this ourselves. We are your investors, Entrapta. Anything that threatens your company threatens Alliance as well,” Glimmer promises Entrapta. Entrapta nods, smiling with easy trust. Adora frowns down at her notes.

“Can you forward these to me, maybe with a brief technical explanation? If they were planning to reproduce this themselves then they must have a facility somewhere. If I know what they would have needed, I can chase after the paper trail for that if the finances turn into a dead end,” Adora tells her. Entrapta nods, already pulling up her tablet to make a note.

“I would prefer not to get the authorities involved until necessary, if only to keep the technical specifications private. I am feeling defensive of my designs after this incident. This mainframe has a lot of computing power and I do not wish for it to be re-engineered for anything unscrupulous. Or _datamining_ ,” Entrapta tells her, a hint of genuine disdain at the end. Adora just nods.

“In my experience, they aren’t a lot of help _anyway_ ,” Adora agrees. Entrapta throws her a thankful smile.

The meeting isn’t done, but it basically is. They talk for a few minutes as Glimmer sends emails informing any invested parties of the plan going forward, just chatting between friends, but eventually the emails are sent and it is time to go.

While they were dealing with the technical mess that has come out of the aborted meeting last week, Adora was focused, but as soon as a course of action was decided she couldn’t help but start glancing towards the door. Nothing has _broken_ out there, at least, but she is worried about leaving Catra alone to deal with Scorpia. She is also worried about leaving _Scorpia_ alone with Catra.

Catra was in _her_ bed last night, she reminds herself. Catra didn’t sound _interested_ when she talked about Scorpia’s crush on her – but she had been flustered, and it is enough to have Adora’s possessiveness flaring. She just got Catra back, she couldn’t take losing her to some other woman.

Adora is grateful when Entrapta finally stands and she can follow her out, even though she enjoys spending time with her. Entrapta opens the door to Glimmer’s office, and Adora catches Scorpia’s bright voice happily chatting away before she steps through the door and sees the room for herself. Bow is sat on a couch with Scorpia, intently listening to the conversation she and Perfuma are having. Catra is collapsed in an armchair nearby.

“We’re heading back now, Scorpia. We have a criminal to catch – and a mainframe to sell to a _legitimate_ buyer,” Entrapta tells her, not looking up from where she is typing into her phone as she heads for the door to the waiting room. Scorpia jumps to her feet, scrambling to follow Entrapta, but she pauses and turns back to look at Catra. She hovers for a moment before throwing Catra a _smile_ , hopeful and a bit eager. Catra looks _nervous_.

"I know you never have time to talk on these twenty-four-hour gigs, but I'm glad we're going to get to see each other on the job, at least. Especially after you leave the agency," Scorpia tells her. Adora feels something hot and possessive flare deep in her chest. She does her best to force it down, like she always _tries_. She does not have the right to feel about Catra that way, not really, but in her head, it has always been _them_.

Adora feels Catra's eyes on her as she does her best not to glare at Scorpia. "I'll see you around. Your client just left without you, Scorpia," Catra returns. Adora snorts as Scorpia scrambles, sending Catra a grateful smile before hurrying out the waiting room door. Once she loses sight of Scorpia, Adora finds she is actually able to breathe normally again. Catra stands, slinking towards Adora with a glint in her eye, despite how twitchy her ears and tail are. It is not a good sign - it means she is stressed, or at least _has_ been while Adora was in her meeting.

"Time to head back, princess?" Catra asks, sounding amused. It is all the prompting Adora needs to nod with relief. She needs to get them to her office, to _privacy_ , where she can actually touch Catra and ask what happened.

\--

Adora barely manages to hold it together until they are in her office alone, immediately reaching around her to lock the door and fixing her with a searching look. Catra realizes Adora is only a few inches from her, arm braced on the door beside her now, intense gaze fixed on her. Catra's back is practically against the door – it is against the door, actually, when she takes a reflexive step back.

Adora startles, a flash of panic entering her eyes as she takes several steps back herself. “I’m sorry, I-“ she starts. Catra cuts her off with a hiss.

“You’re _fine,_ Adora. You just surprised me. I’m not- used to this,” Catra tells her, despite how if Adora crowds against her like that again it will be _far_ from fine. Catra’s self-control is already thin enough she is slipping into Adora’s bed at every excuse. She knows she will not be able to hold back with the feeling of Adora’s heat against her. She can’t let that happen – Adora won’t understand why she _stops_. She will think she pressured Catra or something – she won’t be able to accept that Catra is protecting _her_ from regretting it later when she finds out the truth.

Catra has to _stop thinking about kissing Adora_. She looks away, cheeks flushing and tail lashing. She can feel the concern flooding off Adora, still certain she went too far. Catra sighs. “Come on,” she instructs, crossing the room to sweep past Adora and settle on the couch. After a moment’s hesitation, Adora follows, sitting beside her with their sides brushing. Catra turns to tuck her head into her shoulder, letting out a soft sigh. This is far safer, sitting next to each other and just hiding her face against Adora. Adora finally releases the breath she was holding, carefully dropping one arm to rest across her shoulders.

“While you were in the meeting, Perfuma let it slip, but Scorpia promised not to tell. It was just stressful,” Catra tells Adora. Above her, she feels Adora stiffen briefly before she lets out a sigh of relief and nods.

"You sure you're okay? I know you can't like someone having leverage on you," Adora asks, the hand on her shoulder squeezing lightly. Catra swallows, but she nods into Adora's shoulder.

"Scorpia is loyal. I don't think she is going to do anything that risks me my job," Catra answers. She was nervous about her initial reaction, but now she has seen it, she does not believe Scorpia will turn on her for this. Damn near anyone can be turned with the right motivation, but this was not it. Adora raises the hand on her shoulder to rub carefully at the base of Catra's ear, practically making her melt against her.

"You know if they fired you I would just hire you myself anyway," she promises Catra. Catra can't help her smile, despite how Adora can't see it. She did know that, she _told_ Scorpia that, but she likes that Adora _said_ it. She nuzzles into her shoulder, giving a weak purr for a moment. It makes Adora's breath catch. Catra lets herself have a moment more, releasing a soft sigh of content at having Adora around her, before she forces herself to pull back. Adora has the nerve to look _disappointed_.

“We’re at work,” Catra reminds her, raising an eyebrow. Adora actually _pouts_ now. At least she seems to be over her panic around the door.

“We’re in my office and the door is locked. No one will see us,” she argues, but she is not _really_ arguing. She is not going to try to convince Catra of something she doesn’t want and Catra knows that. She rolls her eyes in response.

“We’re at work, so you have to _work_ , Adora. Go to your fucking desk. A few feet won’t kill you, but Angella _might_ if she finds you slacking off for _cuddles_ ,” Catra tells her. For some reason, that causes Adora to blush, but she stands and heads over to her desk.

“If it kept me from passing out after meetings, I’m pretty sure she would approve,” Adora returns. Catra pauses, doing the _at least twice a month_ math and realizing they are overdue. The next time Juliet tries to pull her away during one of Adora’s meetings, Catra is going to turn her _down_.

\--

Adora spends the rest of the week alternating between her normal work and chasing down leads on Prime Industries, at least during work hours. In the evenings, she settles next to Catra on the couch, or makes her spar with her to teach her, or even goes jogging with her around the estate. Now Catra has opened the gates, it is _killing_ Adora to not be touching her, holding her how she wants to. She only really gets hugs when they cuddle in her bed during the night – which they do _often_.

Chasing down the Prime paper trail has her reliving memories of doing all this before, following every path she could on Hope, and then Mara, and then _her_ and finding nothing. She does not even know who her birth parents _are._ Hope and Mara are listed on her birth certificate, but Adora has records from a fertility clinic that show Mara couldn’t have children, despite being married to a trans woman. Mara doesn’t match her DNA, and Hope is only a partial parental match, but the match is weak and far from a guarantee. Mara just can’t be her birth mother, not between the medical records and Adora’s skintone. It doesn’t make any sense. 

The Prime paper trail is an achingly similar experience. Nothing but dead ends as Adora chases their finances around the globe and finds no assets, no _employees_ , just unexplained transfers in and out. She still latches onto it, despite how it makes her sleep fitfully. She has been chasing after her mothers with all the resources in the world for five years and found nothing. There is a part of her that says _this_ one is fresh – this one she can _solve_.

If only she could fucking _sleep_. Catra ends up in her bed every other night that week, and though Adora is grateful for her presence every time, she wishes the nightmares would just _stop_. She just needs to get a few nights of uninterrupted sleep and maybe she will have enough presence of mind to find what she is missing.

Come Sunday, she finds herself in her office, pulling down the hanging screen with her trail of clues and leads on her mothers. She takes one look at it and feels her stomach turn. She can’t, not after the week she has had. She puts it away, turning from the room and determining to spend a few hours on the couch with Catra, doing nothing but coaxing her into her lap and watching anything that will take her mind off all this.

She does not wake to nightmares that night – but she wakes just the same. Bad dreams definitely, but not night terrors, and they fall away as soon as she slips back into consciousness. She has already felt bad about not telling Catra these last few dreams weren’t about her – that Adora just wanted her presence, but did not need it to make her heart beat again. Catra _offered_ for her to come check on her, but that had been in the context of dreams about her.

Adora is tired. She finds her feet carrying her to Catra’s door. She doesn’t knock, she does not want to wake her. She just opens it cautiously, slowly, hoping she is not too loud. Catra is curled on her side in her bed, sheets piled around her, ears twitched back towards the door. Adora pauses, unsure if she is awake, and unsure what she should say if she _is_.

Catra’s tail thumps against the bed before sweeping forward to curl around her knees. Adora _thinks_ it is an invitation for the space next to her. She starts forward cautiously, crossing the room and heading towards the edge of Catra’s bed. She still is not _certain_ this is not just sleep movement, and she is not sure if it is safe to approach or if claws will come out if Catra wakes to someone standing over her.

Catra unfolds, stretching slowly as she turns towards Adora and blinks at her through slit eyes. Adora swallows. “It wasn’t about you. I don’t even remember it. I can go,” she tells her, whisper soft. Catra rolls her eyes, reaching up for Adora and making grabby hands at her.

“Carry me. I’m tired and your bed is better anyway,” Catra yawns, eyes closed and giving no indication she has any intention of opening them. Adora pauses, but she did _tell_ Catra, and she is still offering. Adora bends, scooping Catra up easily despite her fatigue. Catra has a lot of muscle, lean or not, and she is deceptively heavy, but Adora is also strong.

She carries Catra back to her room, Catra using her tail to open and close doors behind them. She snuggles into Adora’s arms as they go, purring softly. Adora is struggling to breathe a bit and it has nothing to do with Catra’s weight. She arranges them on the center of the bed when they reach it, curling in close around Catra’s back so they can be fully pressed together.

She is pretty sure Catra falls back asleep almost instantly. Catra doesn’t say anything, anyway, when Adora occupies herself with petting along her stripes. She made fun of Adora when she pet her before. If she is awake, she just lets Adora travel her hands over soft fur and assure herself that this is one person she is not losing, not again. There is no one who can take Catra from her, not even Catra in all her attempts to run and hide. Adora loves her, crimes be damned.

One day, when she doesn’t think it will make her run, she will tell her that. For now, she falls asleep with the love of her life in her arms. It is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops Hope is a trans woman too because I Do What I Want. Always loving trans women hours in this house.  
> I'm honestly shocked no one brought up Adora's parents not being white before this tbh. It was always intended to be a plot point, but I thought someone would have pointed it out.


	7. ACT I: Suit & Tie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra knew sleeping in Adora's bed was a bad idea from the start, but she really should have been prepared for other people knowing - and _telling_ on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter covered the course of a week by the end. That’s right, we are now in week four (4) and they’ve been sleeping together for a _week_ without doing shit about it.  
> If you don't know Waffle House, there's [a post on my tumblr](https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/630639889128603648/darringtonshorthalt-postmarxed) that explains it.

Adora is getting _somewhere_. Not close, it does not _feel_ like it at least, but her investigation is starting to turn up results after the week of frustration and night terrors that followed her meeting with Entrapta.

“I know what it _is_ , I just don’t know how to trace it,” Adora complains to Catra come Monday. Catra raises an eyebrow at her. She has already asked Adora several questions about the access she has to financial records that all ended in “Angella, and don’t ask, I don’t.” Adora sighs, slumping back on the couch a little.

She feels defeated by a bunch of _numbers_. She thought she might track Prime Industries’ assets to find the factory where they planned to reproduce Entrapta’s work, but it seems they are just a front money is passed through. Money is transferred in and then withdrawn as either cash, untraceable transfers, or traceable transfers into seemingly random bank accounts – like the bank accounts of two representatives for different companies.

The transfers out are money laundering or bribes, none of them make any sense otherwise, but she can’t figure out how to track who is paying who. All the money disperses between company accounts before it eventually trickles out into random bank accounts and odd charges. There is no direct line of who is paying for what, which makes it hard to figure out who is paying to fuck with Entrapta.

“We’re supposed to be eating lunch. Breaks, Adora,” Catra reminds from beside her. She leans forward, retrieving Adora’s own lunch from the coffee table, and putting it back in her lap. Adora glares down at it. She _knows_ that, but this whole Prime investigation is taking up a lot of her time. She still has her regular duties to attend to, even if Glimmer and Angella have been directing some traffic away from her.

“Eat your food without talking about – or _thinking_ about – the fake company and afterwards I’ll sit in your chair while you show me what you have,” Catra bribes. Adora pauses, blinking up at her in surprise. _Her chair_ sounds like Catra code, but that might be a stupid hope. Catra rolls her eyes, but she is blushing a little. “You can scratch my ears,” she promises. _Purring_ is what she is really promising, a soothing rhythm combined with Catra’s warmth in her lap. Adora picks up her fork and is not even ashamed enough to blush when Catra laughs at her.

“If I’m going to think about something else, I need a distraction,” Adora admits. Catra’s tail flicks in amusement as she pulls out her phone, launching into a list of rock-climbing locations she has found that will let her in and she thinks are close to Adora’s level. Adora is happy to sit back and eat her food as she listens to Catra use a dozen different terms she doesn’t understand but will _learn_. By the time Adora’s lunch is finished, Catra has emailed two different places about booking a slot.

All Adora has done during work for the last week is fixate on the Prime issue, but suddenly she finds herself unwilling to return to it, not with Catra happily chatting beside her. Lunch is over though, and she does have to do _something_ again. It may as well be this.

Catra strides over to her desk when Adora stands, crossing her arms and cocking her hip expectantly. Despite her bravado, she is blushing and her tail is flicking. Adora tries not to be _eager_ as she crosses to her chair and sits in it, reaching for Catra. She _knows_ her, and Catra would rather have the denial of Adora being the one to pull her in than have to sit down in her lap herself. Catra scoffs, but she lets herself be arranged in Adora’s lap, curling her legs and tail up on Adora’s ridiculous executive chair.

Adora raises one hand to scratch at the base of Catra's ear as she pulls up her virtual pin board of bank statements. “Okay, these are all the statements from the last few months I was able to trace all the way to what I believe was the source or the end destination. The ones going out are a lot easier to trace than the ones coming in,” Adora explains. Even though Catra knows that is what she has been doing, it is different to know it is what she is _seeing_.

Catra’s purr has started. It makes Adora breathe a bit easier as she continues. “I have politicians, CEOs, business owners, rich families and even nobility from all over the world paying into this front. Only some of the money is redistributed. I think it is a mix of money laundering, or maybe payments for illegal work, and bribes like what those two representatives got. The problem is, none of these other bribes were _caught_ , so I don’t know what they were for,” Adora explains. From her chest, Catra’s purr stutters as she sits up a little, squinting at the screen.

“This won’t work for everything, but match the people making transfers coming in with transfers going out in the same geographic location,” Catra tells her. Adora pauses, blinking at the back of her head. Adora wasn’t _not_ expecting her to help, but she really thought Catra’s intent was just to let her vent while they cuddled. Catra sighs, reaching for her mouse and pulling up two statements, an in-coming payment and an outgoing bribe. They were made nearly a week apart, but in the same British county.

“Your note says this is a Tory leader, and this payment out goes to a nearby florist. Look into who that florist delivers to and I’m telling you now you will find a political rival. This charge is not enough to be a bribe. I bet they ordered an arrangement and then planted a listening device in it themselves, or used it to smuggle something in. Maybe they bought the arrangement in-store and put on a false uniform to deliver it as a way inside. It is espionage, most likely,” Catra explains, using her claw to indicate different lines of the statements.

Adora alternates between staring at her and staring at the bank statements. It makes _sense_ , now she has said it, but even when Adora had tried grouping statements by location, as far as she had gotten was putting these two together and not understanding why they matched.

Catra’s ears are pinned to her head. She seems uncomfortable. She usually is, when she talks about anything related to her criminal past. “You are brilliant, and I need more of you,” Adora tells her, because she needs to assure her, but it is also _true_. Catra flushes, ears twitching back instead of down, embarrassed instead of afraid.

“It won’t always be that easy. The average person has grudges on someone they know – but the average person usually is not spying. Any one of Entrapta’s business rivals could have wanted her designs, or a counterfeiter like you first thought Prime Industries itself was,” Catra warns her. Adora huffs a laugh, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her back against her chest from where she was leaned towards the computer screen. Catra flushes, but she lets herself be pulled.

“ _None_ of this has been easy. Now I at least know more about what I’m looking for, I can try to match the transfers in to logical transfers out. There are a lot of gaps that aren’t traceable on both ends, but hopefully whoever paid to steal from Entrapta is trackable,” Adora tells her, tightening her arm a little when she finishes. Catra has helped her, but she also does not want her to leave now. She pauses.

“Can you look this over with me? See if you can help me draw more connections?” Adora asks her. She wants her to stay – she also wants to _solve this_ , now she knows the path forward. Catra’s ears twitch, but she nods, clicking through the statements slowly. The idea clearly makes her nervous. Adora uses her free hand to scratch behind Catra’s ears again. She does not purr now, but she does relax – at least until she spots a statement that makes her stiffen entirely.

“I know this guy. I did a job for him a few years back,” Catra murmurs, blinking at the statement. Adora holds herself back from sitting forward obviously. She wants to know everything about Catra – but she doesn’t need to know about her past, and she does not want to bring up painful memories.

 _The guy_ in question is a questionably rich investor from Vegas. Adora found his investment portfolio, and it was lacking compared to his bank account. A criminal, definitely, but what kind she could not place. She had him on the list of people potentially looking to reproduce Entrapta’s tech. She is still tracing plenty of statements – the list is getting longer every day.

Catra has been clicking through outgoing transfers while Adora thought. She stops on one, leaning back in Adora’s arms and swallowing. Adora can’t see her face from this angle, but she can feel the tension in her body. She holds Catra close as she speaks, hoping to comfort her _some_.

“Absolute scumbag. He owns illegal factories in Thailand run on slave-labour. Here is a withdrawal at a Thai bank in the provincial capital near a few of his factories,” Catra explains. She seems like she has more to say, but she stops, biting her lip. She is tense enough she is almost pulling away. Adora pulls her back close against her chest.

“I don’t need details if you don’t want to give them, Catra. I never would have linked these two statements. You struck possibilities from the list for me already,” Adora promises her. Catra releases a shaking breath, but she nods. Adora squeezes her arms around her waist. “We can stop. I can look over these myself and then ask you once I have struck more possibilities from the list,” Adora offers.

Catra clearly wants to take the offer, but she says nothing. Guilt stopping her, maybe. Adora reaches around her to save the workspace and then closes it. “I have other things I need to do, anyway. I’ll come back to this later,” she tells her. Cautiously, she slides a hand up and scratches behind Catra’s ear again. Slowly, she untenses, leaning back against Adora’s chest even as she opens her emails.

Adora does an impersonation of working while Catra slowly relaxes in her arms. Occasionally she provides a dry comment on the work Adora is doing – usually on an utter bullshit phrase in one of the emails Adora is dealing with – but for the most part she just curls there, seeming reluctant to move despite how difficult it is to work around a magicat in your lap. Adora does nothing to encourage her to leave.

\--

Even without her realization the week before that Adora was overdue for a stress collapse, Catra can sense it coming just in how often she is ending up in Adora’s bed. By the middle of the week, Catra is taking precautionary measures. On Tuesday night, she waits until a bit after Adora has gone to bed – long enough for it to be _plausible_ she is asleep, but Catra knows she isn’t – and slips into Adora’s room.

Adora stiffens obviously at her door being opened, but she does not move or say anything as Catra climbs onto the foot of her bed and curls into a ball over her feet. They used to do this. She knows how to lose it, and she just wants Adora to sleep through the night without stress. Catra’s own night terrors have taken a backseat, the few nights a week she spends in Adora’s bed keeping them well enough at bay, but she would lying if she said their inevitable return was not part of her motivation as well.

Adora eventually relaxes beneath her. Catra can feel the happiness coming off her as she begins to breathe normally again, apparently convinced Catra is not going to leave. They both sleep normally that night, but Catra can’t keep _doing_ this. She is going crazy, in Adora’s bed but _not_ , in Adora’s arms but not how she _wants_ to be. She needs a few nights in her own bed just to get her head on straight, but she keeps sneaking into Adora’s room come nightfall.

“Do her nightmares usually get worse leading up to a collapse?” Catra askes Bow the next day when they are working security during another executive meeting. Bow pauses, frowning to himself.

“Maybe? She gets them consistently enough I’ve never tracked them. Usually it is once or twice a week, at least that she mentions it,” Bow muses. Catra swallows, turning away. Bow catches it. “It’s more than twice a week, isn’t it?” he asks, softly. Catra just shrugs. If Adora didn’t tell him, she won’t either. She won’t make her vulnerable where she doesn’t want to be.

“Tell you what,” Bow says, gently nudging her with his elbow. She turns to scowl at him for touching her without permission, but he is actually allowed to do that at this point. If he _wasn’t_ , she would have sliced him already. “Adora has this tea shop that she loves down the road. I’ll have Perfuma text you the order she usually gets for Adora. It might help her get through the bad mornings,” Bow tells her.

Catra does not know how to tell him that they have found a way around bad mornings and it is just bad _nights_ that are left, so she nods and accepts the information gratefully. She knows how it needs to be used, anyway.

She knows this Adora – this is the Adora that took on extra duties to help out the younger kids who couldn’t do them right. As long as Shadow never caught her, she saved them lashes for doing it wrong. Catra needs to do _something_ , because this is an Adora that is carrying so much weight on her shoulders, she is about to collapse under it.

On Friday, Adora has a meeting with the accounting department. Catra sees it on the schedule as she reads Adora her meetings from her phone on the way to work. Adora groans for a solid twenty seconds. It is impressive lung capacity if nothing else. Then Catra tells her the meeting is for two hours and she swears she sees a vein pop in Adora’s forehead.

She follows Adora to the meeting hot on her heels, knowing she won’t be allowed inside because the accounting department is apparently _paranoid_. She still holds the door for Adora, sending her a look she hopes is encouraging. She lets her tail find Adora’s hand as she passes. Adora twists her hand after it even as she continues walking in. Adora walks into the meeting like she is walking to the gallows.

Juliet calls Catra away immediately. She lets her, but she sends Juliet a firm look when she walks into the security office. “You have me for an hour fifteen,” she tells her. Juliet has her bitchface on, which is honestly her _default_ , but normally she throws Catra a smile when she first sees her, at least at this point. Juliet raises an eyebrow.

“The meeting is two hours,” she points out. She has access to all the Queens calendars. It is how she knows when to pull Catra aside. Catra feels her tail lash. She does not want to be caught _caring_ , it tells Juliet how to _hurt_ her – but everyone fucking knows it anyway. She sighs, forcing her tail to drop.

“I’m going to Madame Razz’s. Perfuma gave me her order. If instant tea can help with her usual levels of stress, I’m hoping the shop can counteract _Accounts Payable_. She didn’t wake up screaming last night, but she has been doing it a lot lately,” Catra tells her, ears pinning back, _waiting_.

Juliet visibly softens – or rather, unhardens. This is most people’s _neutral_. She seems to hesitate, glancing around the room as she thinks. “You can go. It was not that important, anyway. Not as important as taking care of Adora,” Juliet tells her. Catra can tell it _is_ important, and it kind of sets her on edge, but she just nods and takes the relieve of duty gratefully. It gives her extra time.

Bow and Glimmer and _Perfuma_ may know her favourite tea order now – but Catra knows _Adora_. She knows how to make her feel better.

\--

Meetings with accounting are like being trapped in the car with someone with road rage, trying to talk them down, but somehow _you_ are also the one with road rage as the passenger sits impassively, unaffected by the mounting anger and thus making it worse. It is its own paradoxical circle of hell, and Adora _hates_ it.

She feels the ache building in her head before the meeting is even done. All she can do is be grateful Catra snuck into her bed after dark again last night. If she had not slept, she is certain she would not make it out of the meeting. She walks out with a growing headache, feeling utter relief sweep through her at the sight of Catra waiting for her just outside the door, concern obvious.

She isn’t supposed to touch Catra at work, but Catra places a hand on her back and steers her to the elevator. She hears Catra suck in a breath at how _tense_ she is, but there is not much she can do about it but let herself be blindly led back to her office, Catra unlocking it for her.

It takes her the entire time Catra is locking the door behind her to realize the office is not how she left it. She blinks, squinting at the coffee table by the sofa. There is an entire tray spread out there, the smell of maple and tea in the air.

Catra’s hand is on her back again. “Come on, Adora,” she prompts, softly, steering her over to the couch. Adora blinks down at the midday breakfast laid out, a waffle she knows by sight and smell is from a Waffle House and two cups from the tea shop down the road set next to it. There is another takeout box and tea further down the table, but this has clearly been set up for her in contents alone, much less the presentation.

She looks up and realizes that while she was staring Catra started her security sweep. She returns, looking down at Adora with soft eyes. “Just take a break, okay? Look at it this way: if it keeps you from collapsing, it will be more efficient than continuing and having to recover anyway,” Catra tells her, moving to sit beside her, throwing her legs over her lap.

Adora feels herself swallow thickly, her hands falling to Catra’s calves and squeezing _some_ kind of message. “I love you,” she says, a bit hoarse. It is not the first time Catra has heard it, but it is the first time in six years, and she flushes and looks quickly away, ears twitching.

“ _Obviously_ ,” she scoffs, but it sounds far more flustered than dismissive. After a moment, she scoots forward until she is leaned against Adora’s side. “If you drip maple syrup on me, I’m throwing your ass out the window,” she tells her. She does not sound even vaguely threatening. She has already taken her suit jacket off in case.

“Okay,” Adora agrees, bending forward to collect her plate from the table. Catra got _both_ her favourite teas. She got her Waffle House food Adora has not eaten since the last time they scraped the money together to go on what Adora totally didn’t consider a date. She felt a bit like she was dying earlier, but now, with Catra beside her and purring in amusement as she steals bites from Adora despite _having her own_ , she feels weightless.

When Adora finishes her food, Catra collects her own takeout box and curls into her chest, purr rolling into Adora’s ribcage as she eats. Her sleeves are rolled up so Adora can pet along the stripes on her arms as she just relaxes beneath her.

“Feeling better, princess?” Catra asks as she shifts away to set aside her empty takeout box. She is back immediately, tucking under Adora’s chin. Adora releases a soft sigh, squeezing her close in her arms.

“Yeah. I needed this. Thank you,” Adora tells her, softly. Catra purrs against her.

\--

Friday seemed to be enough that Catra gets to sleep in her own bed over the weekend. Not that Catra _likes_ sleeping in her own bed – but she needs to remember how to do it. She needs to be _prepared_ to do it. She just also is prepared to sleep in Adora’s, should she need her to. Adora does not say anything about her retreating back to her own bed. She looks anxious when she comes down to breakfast on Saturday, though. She clearly has not slept well.

Catra hesitates before slipping onto their bench in the breakfast nook. “If you need me, you tell me,” she tells her, quietly. It would be a non-sequitur, if not for the anxiety in Adora’s eyes. Adora softens, nodding to her before she sets about making herself breakfast. Adora is anxious for the rest of the weekend, but every time Catra reaches for her she visibly softens.

On Sunday night, Catra intends to sleep in her own bed again. She should have known better than to push her luck on her own night terrors, but she needs to be used to _these_ too, if she is going to go back to sleeping on her own once Adora knows. She needs to stop thinking _if_. The only _if_ is if Adora will even want her in her life at all, afterwards. It is guaranteed she will not want her in her bed, not if she knows why Catra wakes up gasping, convinced she is choking on her own blood again, hands scrambling for her neck to find it _scarred_.

She used to be strong enough to get up and work the adrenaline out. Instead, she stands and prowls into Adora’s room. Adora is lying on her side, fast asleep. She does not stir as Catra slips into the bed, curling into a ball in the crook of Adora’s knees. Despite how the guilt should be drowning her – like the taste of blood _still is_ – she falls asleep again quickly after that. It is not entirely restful, but it is not _disturbed_ again.

She wakes to Adora gently petting her tail where it trails towards her arm. Catra twitches it away on instinct and then immediately regrets it – now Adora knows she is awake. Catra does not turn back to face her, staring determinedly out from the foot of the bed.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she manages, a thin justification delivered in a rasp. She is not even vaguely here for Adora and she just _admitted_ it. She knows Adora will understand what she means. Adora’s alarm starts going off and she flattens her ears as Adora scrambles to turn it off. After a moment, silence rings again.

After _several_ moments, Catra curling in closer on herself in anticipation, Adora speaks. “Okay,” she says. She sounds _hopeful_ , the idiot. She made it two nights fine without Catra. Catra is _not_ sleeping in her bed. Adora will not want her to. “If you ever _can’t sleep_ , you don’t have to do it down there, you know,” Adora adds, voice cautious.

Yes, she does. If she wants Adora to ever forgive her for touching her with all the blood on her hands, she has to give her as much distance as she can without hurting her _now_. “It’s only fair?” Adora tries, instead. Catra actually snorts to herself, tucking her face in against her arms. She wants Adora to just _drop it_ , but she can’t say that. She can’t explain _why_ without giving herself away and taking this away _herself_.

“… You said it didn’t have to mean anything,” she says, instead. She hates herself for it, using her _space_ excuse from that first weekend, but she is doing it _for_ Adora. Adora’s breath catches, but she pushes on, undeterred.

“It still doesn’t. You sleep up here when I need it. I want to do the same for you,” Adora returns. That is such bullshit Catra almost calls her on it, but she bites her tongue. Adora told her she _loved her_ on Friday. They both know how Adora meant it. Catra knows, now, that Adora loves the new her like the old her – but she _won’t_ , one day, when she finds out about the Catra that existed in between.

Catra sweeps her tail up to wrap around Adora’s wrist. It is the best she can manage. She can’t say yes – but she also can’t say _no_ either. She does not want to, and it will just hurt Adora if she does. This is not sustainable and she knows it. She is going to crack or end up hurting her anyway.

Every time Adora invites her to her bed, she still comes. Every time she hears Adora gasp, she bolts upright and _runs_ for her. No place feels safer in the world than Adora’s arms – nowhere will feel safe _after_.

\--

Catra’s new suits arrived over the weekend. Adora had been a bit _focused_ then, worried what she had done to drive Catra from the bed she was finally starting to come to, even if she would only do it after Adora had gone to bed in some kind of perceived-secret. The implications of the suits’ arrival had not really hit until Monday – until Catra started working her way through testing out each one.

Coincidentally, Adora is having one of the hardest work weeks of her life, despite being nowhere near a stress collapse. She thought she liked Catra in suits before – Catra in tailored, dark pieces, most of the cuts being just _slightly_ outside of the usual suit purview, giving her a unique and almost _unsettling_ appearance, is beyond _like_ and into _walking into walls_ territory. On Wednesday, Glimmer waits until Bow and Catra have been gone for all of twenty seconds before she turns to Adora and calls her a lesbian disaster.

The CFO raises his eyebrow beside them, but Adora ignores him. She would rather _he_ overhear than Catra, anyway. “Glimmer, if you say a word to her, I swear-“

Glimmer starts snickering _uncontrollably_. “Adora, no one has to say anything. You’re doing it all yourself. Everyone knows,” Glimmer tells her. Adora stares at her. After a moment, she leans around Glimmer to look at the CFO. He shoots her an apologetic look and nods. Adora collapses back in her seat, thinking _shit_.

“You literally _trip_ when you see her, Adora,” Glimmer tells her, as if Adora does not _know_ that. Adora feels herself flush.

“That was only once. And it made her laugh,” Adora defends, sheepishly. Glimmer looks at her like she is an idiot, which is _fair_ , but Adora really is doing her best here. She is doing far better than anyone can be expected to when their hot best friend starts sleeping in their bed with them, wearing their clothes – because Catra has outright _taken_ other things now, and Adora has done absolutely nothing to stop her – and touching them all hours of the day when they are alone.

Glimmer raises an eyebrow and Adora sinks down in her chair. She is so lucky they were early for this meeting – and that Angella got trapped in her conference call. If she walked out into her waiting room to _this_ conversation, Adora might just die on the spot. Bad enough that the CFO is listening.

“I’m pretty sure Juliet is talking to her about it right now,” Glimmer tells her, sounding a little apologetic. “She’s roping Bow into helping with an ambush, anyway.” Adora stiffens, scrambling for her phone and sending Catra a desperate text to avoid Juliet. And then another not to listen to her. And then a third promising to make it up to her later. Glimmer watches the procession of idiocy with amusement.

“You know she knows, too, right? There is no way she is that observant and doesn’t,” Glimmer points out. Adora sighs, glaring at her as she puts her phone away.

“I’m pretty sure she has known since high school. I’m not worried about that. I just don’t want Juliet to make her uncomfortable,” Adora tells her, checking her watch already to make sure she has not gotten a reply. She has to be in this meeting for an _hour_ while Catra has to deal with this.

Adora sighs and pulls out her phone to send her another message giving her full permission to hide in her office or leave the building on any made-up errand she wants. Catra still has not replied to the first barrage.

“If you two are fine, do you really have anything to worry about?” Glimmer asks her, looking at her assessingly. Adora stares at her blank watch.

“Yes, I have us becoming _not fine_ to worry about. I’m _me_ , Glimmer. Worry is my _whole thing_ ,” Adora tells her, glaring at her watch face.

Angella chooses that moment to finally get out of her conference call. Suddenly Adora is trapped in her aunt’s office for the next _hour_ while Glimmer shoots her pitying looks and the CFO does his best to pretend he never heard anything.

\--

Catra’s phone goes off as she and Bow are on their way to Juliet’s office.

“Don’t check that,” Bow says _immediately_. Catra feels herself stiffen as Juliet’s office draws into view, Juliet already standing in the doorway waiting for them. She pulls out her phone, claws on her free hand snapping out when Bow whines in case he gets any ideas. She trusts him – generally – but not when there is an active sign _not to_. She blinks at the series of texts on her screen.

“Bow, what the fuck?” she asks, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. Ahead of them, she sees Juliet frowning and starting their way. Clearly, it is an ambush, but what _kind_ Catra does not know. Adora seems worried, but not about _safety_ certainly. Something Adora thinks she has to make up to Catra sounds bad – but it could also be far worse. Adora thinks this is recoverable, at least.

“I just know that Juliet wanted to talk to you about Adora, okay? There’s no debrief,” Bow tells her. Juliet is within earshot now and glowering at Bow a bit. Catra’s stiffness is _gone_ , body alive and prepared for a fight. She considers bolting now and going back down the hall for Adora.

“Is there actually a meeting or is she being cornered too?” Catra asks Bow, narrowing her eyes at him. Bow shakes his head.

“She is actually in a meeting. That is why we are doing this now,” Bow tells her. Catra relaxes a _bit_. Adora is okay right now, at least. Whether she will be okay with whatever decision Juliet makes in this meeting is a second matter. Whether Catra will be is a _third_.

Juliet is in front of them now, looking stern but a bit _concerned_. “You are not in trouble, but we need to talk in private,” she tells her, motioning back towards her office. Catra grits her teeth and follows, feeling her tail lash as she leaves Bow behind. Juliet closes the door to her office as soon as they enter it, moving to lean against her desk, arms crossed.

“I need to ask you a personal question,” Juliet says. Worst possible opening. Catra barely wants to discuss personal things with _Adora_ much less with her boss who could _take_ Adora from her. She draws a deep breath. Adora is not going to let them be separated, not if she can help it. She said on that first weekend together she would leave this all behind for her. It does not _matter_ what Juliet decides.

“I might not answer,” she replies, as evenly as she can with her jaw still clenched.

“You have to. Are you and Adora sleeping together?” Juliet asks, matter-of-fact, looking at Catra like she is expecting her to deny it. She _is_ going to, but not in the way Juliet thinks. Catra feels her fur starting to bristle, but at least her suit jacket covers it. “I have been getting reports from the other hybrids on my staff that your scent is all over Adora,” Juliet adds, leaving room for no argument. Catra forces her jaw to unclench.

“I sleep in her bed when she gets her night terrors. That is it. We are _not_ doing what you are implying,” Catra tells her, doing her best to not outright hiss. She should have fucking known. Juliet raises an eyebrow at her. “I sleep at the foot of her bed. It is how we slept as kids. I’m not making advances on her,” Catra adds, doing her best not to glare. Nothing says _suspicious_ like a death stare, but she is telling the truth.

Juliet looks impassive for a long moment, eyes bright and appraising. Catra should not do it, but she is feeling too defensive. “How is Casta doing?” Catra asks, pointedly, only _slightly_ venomous. Juliet narrows her eyes, annoyance and frustration sparking in her gaze.

“Casta and I are in a long-standing and private civil partnership. Angella is aware of it. Angella is _not_ aware of the status between you and Adora. That is what she wants to clarify,” Juliet tells her. Catra feels herself pause. Juliet is making _implications_ that Catra is fighting herself not to believe. She still feels her tail fall limp, a bit of the fight leaking out of her as she stares back at Juliet and tries to bury her _hope_. Juliet’s eyes soften a bit.

“You clearly make Adora happy. She has not collapsed once from stress since you were hired. All the evidence suggests you are good for her, and it has not impacted your job so far. I just need to know where you stand,” Juliet tells her, _implications_ becoming explicit.

Catra feels herself shrinking in, feeling _small_ in the face of all that. She likes to think it is true, but it is new to hear someone _else_ say it. Her entire life, she was bad for Adora, a dark mark Shadow tried to erase. She has never been told she makes her _better_. Catra swallows thickly.

“We are not together,” she says, softly, looking down at her feet. After a moment of flexing her claws into the carpet, she finally admits the words she has yet to admit even to herself. “But I am sleeping in her bed,” she concedes, barely above a whisper.

In her periphery, she sees Juliet nod. “Good. If your _status_ changes, let me know. Angella wants to talk to Adora in private after the meeting. You can wait for her in her office. You are dismissed,” Juliet tells her.

Catra goes, but she pauses at the door. After a moment, she turns back to look at Juliet. “Is Bow under the same order?” she asks. The corner of Juliet’s mouth quirks up.

“Yes,” she returns. Catra feels the worry in her chest loosen a little, nodding and continuing on.

She thinks, maybe, she misunderstood the point of that look Juliet had given her when she was first explaining Glimmer and Bow’s companionship.

\--

A few minutes into the meeting, Adora’s watch finally lights up with a single text.

_I’m fine. You’re next though. Try to concentrate._

Adora swallows as she looks down at the message, but she feels her shoulders untense _a little_. She is well aware that _fine_ is relative and often a deflection regardless. She will not believe it until she sees it. Adora does not even know what Juliet was planning on saying to Catra, just that it was about _them_ , and that is dangerous enough. Catra was finally starting to come to her – off and on, but still – and she worries about losing all their progress.

Angella notices her checking her watch. She gives a small shake of her head before returning her attention to the CFO. The rest of the meeting is excruciating. Eventually everything is reported and settled, Adora standing immediately and being met with an admonishing look by Angella.

Adora collapses back in her seat with a sigh, twisting to look out the door as Glimmer and the CFO leave. Glimmer shoots her an encouraging look and two thumbs up. Adora tries to look around them to the waiting room to see if Catra is there, but she does not spot her. She _does_ see Juliet, who nods to Glimmer as she passes and then heads into Angella’s office herself.

“What did you say to her?” Adora demands, not looking away from Juliet as she moves in to sit at the chair Glimmer had left.

“Adora-“ Angella starts, but Adora gets _insolent_ and raises a hand to cut her off immediately, doing her best to not glare at Juliet now and utterly failing. She has never had self-restraint when it came to Catra anyway.

“What did you say to her?” Adora repeats. Juliet looks strangely impressed by Adora’s utter disregard for anything approaching manners. Adora has been in her _intense_ mode since the word _ambush_ was mentioned, and she cannot hold herself back any longer.

Juliet, instead of replying to her, looks to Angella. “It is scenario two. My staff reported accurately,” Juliet tells her. To Adora’s surprise, Angella seems a touch flustered as she nods, looking Adora’s way again. Adora is at her limit.

“Catra doesn’t need this bullshit, and neither do I. Leave her alone. I’m _going_ ,” Adora tells her, already standing. Angella looks startled, which is fair, because Adora rarely swears in front of her, and has never even _thought_ about walking away from her before, but she can’t take this whole separation tactic and coded language. She hardly likes losing sight of Catra. This is too much.

“Adora, call her,” Juliet cuts in as Adora makes to go. It is enough to give her pause, turning back to look at Juliet, questioning. “She was fine. Call her so you _know_ , and then talk with your aunt. She just wants to make sure you’re okay,” Juliet tells her, standing herself. She gives Angella a short bow before leaving, sending Adora a significant look as she stands caught between Angella and the door.

Adora watches her go, glowering at her back, but she pulls out her phone. She does not turn back to face Angella as she calls Catra. Catra picks up after one ring.

“Are you okay?” are the first words out of Adora’s mouth, demanding and doing her best not to sound angry. She knows she does not land it.

“Adora, I’m fine. The hybrids on staff told on us about the bed thing. I told Juliet what it really was,” Catra tells her. She does not _sound_ upset. She is speaking softly, but she could just not want to be overheard.

“Where are you?” Adora asks. She still has not quite decided if she is going to go running there the second Catra tells her the answer or not. Catra sighs, but it sounds completely fond.

“I’m in your office. Angella didn’t want me _overhearing_ ,” Catra tells her. Adora lets out the breath she was holding, finally turning around to look at Angella. Angella looks vaguely disapproving of Adora’s whole fit of dramatics, but she is also looking at Adora a bit imploringly. Adora sighs.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” she asks. Catra snorts on the other end of the line.

“Adora, I’ve single-handedly taken down a dictator. I think I can handle your aunt,” Catra tells her. Adora blinks, before looking at Angella appraisingly. Angella raises an eyebrow in response.

“I don’t know if there has been a dictator in the last six years with Angella’s influence, but if it is not a bad story you’ll have to tell me that one someday,” Adora replies. Catra is silent on the other end of the line. It is definitely a bad story. “I have to meet with her, but I’ll be down soon, okay?” Adora adds, hoping Catra will get the message that _she_ got the message. Catra releases a soft breath.

“Okay. Good luck,” Catra tells her. Adora sighs as she hangs up the phone, slipping it back in her pocket and reluctantly crossing back to her chair. She slouches in it and looks in Angella’s general direction, but not actually _at_ her. She forces herself to take a few concentrating breaths.

Catra is fine. She had to explain to Juliet that they are _sleeping together_ and not like _that_ – all the while apparently everyone knows Adora is head over heels for her – but Catra is here, waiting for her downstairs, not upset. Adora cringes a little as her behaviour over the last few minutes catches up with her.

“I’m sorry. I just worry about her,” Adora tells Angella, finally forcing herself to meet Angella’s eyes. Angella softens, sending her a considering look.

“You really love her,” she says. It is not a question. Angella says it with the same tone of voice she gets when she talks about Micah. Adora winces, but she does not look away. She has never said it out loud, not like this, but she is under no allusions about how Angella means it.

“Yeah. Always have,” Adora agrees, voice soft. Angella looks sorry for her, which is fair. Six years apart did nothing to dull the feeling – or the _loss_. She still would do anything in the world for this love, no matter how it hurt her for a few years there.

“Adora, I had Juliet talk to her because I wanted her to answer without you influencing her. I was not trying to trick either of you,” Angella tells her. Adora hunches a little in her seat, nodding but saying nothing. She gets that – it just certainly had not _felt_ like it when her concern for Catra was nearly drowning her.

“I just- can’t lose her again. I don’t know what I would do,” Adora tells her. She didn’t think that Angella would try to take Catra from her, but Juliet might have driven her away. Adora _still_ is not convinced that having to discuss the bed situation has not driven Catra off, actually. Angella nods, gaze empathetic.

“I think you both are good for each other. She is clearly good for you, but she has also opened up a lot since arriving. I know she was important to you long before I was ever a part of your life, but I want you to know that I approve and I support you both,” Angella tells her. Adora feels herself draw in a sharp breath.

“We aren’t together,” she tells her, because she has to. Angella gives her a small, secretive smile.

“Of course not,” she pauses, raising an eyebrow, “I still approve. You should bring her to dinner more often,” Angella tells her.

Adora huffs, almost a laugh but mostly relief. “I’ll see if I can get her comfortable with it. We didn’t exactly have family meals growing up,” Adora agrees. Angella smiles, nodding and leaning back in her seat. Adora hesitates, unsure if she should take it as a dismissal.

“Go be with her,” Angella tells her, softly. Adora does not need any further encouragement. She is up and heading for the door.

\--

Adora does not _quite_ burst into her office, but Catra hears her stomping footsteps approaching all the way up the hall. She shifts to sit up from where she is splayed out on the couch, suit jacket discarded along with her tie and three of her buttons undone. She was feeling stifled after having to confront the _bed_ situation so openly. She hadn’t even come to terms with it in her head – she was far from ready to _discuss_ it.

Adora does not look upset when she comes in, but she still looks _worried_. The sight of Catra, however disheveled, seems to ease her. She releases a long breath anyway, turning to close and lock the door before she crosses to the couch. Catra ends up pulled into her lap the moment Adora sits, held close against her chest.

“Adora, I’m fine. Are you okay?” Catra asks, slowly lifting her arms to wrap them around Adora’s shoulders. Adora nods into her neck.

“I just got worried for you, and then scared that they would – drive you away or something, I don’t know,” she tells her, grip a little desperate against her back. Catra swallows, Adora’s concern almost drowning her, but she _knows_ what it is like to choke on burning liquid, and it never felt as _warm_ as this.

“I’m not leaving, Adora,” she reminds her, gently. Adora releases a shaking breath against her. After a second, she pulls back, looking up at Catra with searching eyes. “I’m not,” she repeats, voice small under the intensity of Adora’s gaze. Adora nods, a small blossoming of _peace_ entering her eyes.

“I believe you,” she breathes, softly. Catra feels her ears twitch, her breath stuttering a little as she fights every instinct in her fucking body. Adora is looking at her with such calm, such blatant affection, like she is not something to be held at arm’s length or thrown out entirely. All Catra wants to do is believe that look, to give in, but she knows it will not always be there. Adora seems to pick on her having an internal struggle, her eyes softening as she slides one hand up to her shoulder, squeezing lightly. She would not be looking at Catra like this if she knew what she was actually thinking about.

“How did you explain the _sleeping together_ thing to Juliet?” she asks, clearly trying for humour. It breaks the moment at least – it lets Catra draw in air without fighting the urge to strain forward and taste Adora. She does a poor attempt at huffing a laugh.

“I told her it is _just_ sleeping. And that I sleep at the foot of the bed,” Catra tells her, rolling her eyes. She has slept in Adora’s arms as many times as she has slept at the foot, but at least every one of _those_ times a nightmare was fresh between them, so perfect of a justification she does not need to even mention it.

Adora’s brows come together, a small frown creasing her face. “Is that why you won’t come up? As a defence?” she asks, voice quiet. Catra sucks in a breath, looking _away_.

“… Yes. But not because of Juliet,” she finally responds, feeling her tail lash behind her. She can’t say it, can’t tell Adora she is defending herself from when Adora does not _want_ her anymore. Adora’s hand are on her waist, pulling her in closer until she is not just in her lap, but practically straddling it. Adora looks up at her with those soft, searching eyes again.

“Catra, if you are not ready, that is fine. But I want you with me,” Adora says, voice gentle, eyes drawing her in with open acceptance, caring in every word. Heat crawls beneath Catra’s skin, seeing Adora looking at her like this, _offering_ to her like this. It itches at that earlier impulse. It is too much – she can’t keep _fighting_ this.

Catra clears her throat, tearing her gaze away. “I can’t talk about it. Not after everything else today,” she manages, her voice just a bit rough. As much as she hates herself for it, she hopes Adora reads it as emotion rather than _desire_. She wants to just _run_ , just pull from Adora’s grip and hide in the security office, but she knows nothing she does after that will convince Adora she did not do anything wrong.

“Okay,” Adora agrees, words soft and voice surprisingly neutral. Catra pulls herself from Adora’s grip, her hands falling away immediately as Catra moves to sit on the couch beside her instead, finally risking looking at her again now she is not _in her lap_. Adora looks a little concerned, but she is clearly trying to push it down. Catra takes another steadying breath, sweeping her tail to wrap it around Adora’s hand now it is no longer on her waist. It seems to ease her, some of that concern falling away.

“You should get back to work. We’ve been distracted enough today,” Catra tells her. She can’t pull away, not without worrying her, but she also needs room to breathe something that is not Adora’s air. Adora pauses, but she gives Catra’s tail a squeeze before standing reluctantly.

Adora returns to her work, but Catra feels her eyes on her often. It is only fair – Catra hardly looks away herself.

\--

After work, they part in the hallway to go change out of their suits. It is what they always do, usually without the need for words to be exchanged. Adora makes her way into her closet, stripping out of her suit and passing through into the bathroom to wash her face. It has been too much of a day. She is still worried about Catra, but she is trusting that Catra told her the truth – that she really is okay.

When Adora looks at herself in the mirror, she looks tired. When she finally went back to work, she was working on the Prime paper trail again, after a series of dead ends. She is close to _something_ , a small breakthrough in her payment tracing leading to brand new pay-ins, but she worries these leads will stutter out, too. It is too much to add on to the panic of the afternoon.

She sighs, taking down her ponytail if only to prevent the headache from forming. She makes her way back into her closet, seeking out a pair of sweats from high school that barely fit anymore but are comforting all the same. She finds a soft hoodie to go with it, deciding the rest of the day is going to be spent on _nothing_.

She freezes when she walks out of her closet to find Catra curled at the end of her bed, wearing one of the hoodies she stole from Adora and laying with her back to her. The tightness in her chest releases as she finds air again, watching the gentle rise and fall of her best friend’s breathing.

Catra has been in her bed a lot the last two and a half weeks, but only ever after dark, either running in because of a nightmare or silently slipping in to rest at the foot of the bed after Adora has gone to bed. She has not been in the bed during daylight since those first few days when she needed the comfort. Adora had been worried she wouldn’t be coming back at _all_ after her talk with Juliet.

“Do you want me to stay or go?” she asks, voice soft. Catra’s ears are already swiveled back towards her, but her tail flicks. She says nothing. Adora decides to take it as an invitation, moving to settle on the edge of her bed and pet along Catra’s tail. She watches her release a small sigh, tucking deeper into her sheets.

“I need a little space, after today. I’m sleeping in my room, tonight,” Catra tells her. Adora feels her chest clench at the implication that _otherwise_ she would be sleeping in Adora’s bed.

“Okay. I’m getting close on a lead right now. I am going to go work on it in my office. Let me know if you need anything,” Adora tells her. She wants to say _if you need me_ , but she knows that is already implied. Catra just nods into the sheets. Adora gives her tail one last pet before she stands, making her way towards the office.

She had been determined not to think about this again until tomorrow, but now Catra is in her bed she wants to stay nearby. Besides, she _is_ close, and delaying could turn this into another dead end.

\--

Catra makes an effort to sleep in her own bed that night. She makes a cocoon of blankets in the center of the bed, burying herself in them and Adora’s scent from her hoodie.

She does not want to _be_ here. She wants nothing more than for Adora to be holding her, but the incident from the couch has her scared of giving in. At the same time, all her old defences are crumbled. People know, now. She has _admitted_ it. She is sleeping in Adora’s bed – she has been this whole time. She should stay away, but she _can’t_.

She spends long enough in internal conflict that she can lie to herself that Adora has fallen asleep. She slips out of the bed, padding down the hall to Adora’s room with silent steps. She eases the door open carefully. Adora is awake, laying on her back and just staring at the ceiling. Or at least, she was until Catra opened the door, sitting up to look at Catra with obvious surprise. Catra did _say_ she was sleeping in her own bed tonight.

She does not know how to, anymore. She never _did_ , waking up crying out every other night. She does not make eye contact as she crosses the room and curls at the foot of the bed. Adora does not say anything, laying back down after a moment, but she releases an utterly contented sigh. Catra’s ears twitch towards the sound. Adora had looked exhausted when Catra entered the room, but she also was clearly nowhere near sleep. Now, she relaxes back into the sheets.

Catra desperately wants to crawl up to the head of the bed, nuzzling into Adora’s neck and curling into her arms. She can’t do it, can’t take the risk. Adora does not question her on how she lays across her feet. For tonight, she seems happy to let Catra limit herself to the foot of the bed.

Catra has no explanation for how it happens, but when she wakes in the morning, she is curled against Adora's hip, head pillowed on her stomach. Adora has a hand in her hair, petting through it gently. They lay like that until the alarm goes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you personally own part of the financial system, you can Do Things okay. This feels like a good time to mention Alliance is a company founded by and privately owned by the Queens since before the industrial revolution. No shareholders, no investors. They are old and powerful money.


	8. ACT I: Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora gets jealous, and Catra makes a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally the chapter containing the first scene I even wrote.  
> There’s a dress scene in this. The dresses are real designer pieces. I have the links to all of them here. I recommend opening them in new tabs in order and then switching to them as they come up.  
> [Catra’s dress](https://www.alexandermcqueen.com/en-us/ready-to-wear/lace-evening-dress-623947QEAAA1000.html) (though she has a size down so it's a bit tighter). [Adora’s first try](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/alex-perry-clark-twisted-full-sleeve-gown-prod229910166?childItemId=NMB5JXH_). [Adora’s second try](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/tom-ford-shirred-side-slim-jersey-gown-prod231430080?childItemId=NMB5NY4_). [Adora’s final dress](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/alex-perry-marston-cape-satin-one-shoulder-gown-prod230180387?childItemId=NMB5K8U_).

On Friday, the extra time Adora put in _finally_ pans out. No matter how frustrating all the dead ends are, they come together to paint a clear picture. Catra has been helping her, occasionally, with drawing connections and conclusions. Adora tries not to ask unless she is truly stuck, not wanting to bring up memories or confessions Catra is not ready for. Soon, Catra has her picking up patterns in the bank statements.

The affairs are the easiest ones to spot once she knows what to look for – maybe that is why Adora is finally able to crack it. When she figures it out, she nearly cheers, hastily emailing Angella for a meeting while she digs deeper, finds _details_. Catra sits in her lap as she digs, waiting for an email back from Angella. Catra claims it is just to keep her from bouncing her leg.

“You’re going to wear yourself out before lunch,” she warns her, but she is smiling. Adora had launched into her explanation as soon as she found it, a little breathless and a little too proud, but _sue her_ , she finally managed to chase a lead to an answer after _five fucking years_. After a moment, Catra nuzzles in under her chin. “I’m proud of you,” she tells her. Adora nearly loses the ability to breathe.

An hour later, Angella is emailing her back for an immediate meeting between them, Glimmer, and “highest level security” – Juliet, Bow, and Catra. Adora forwards her files to Angella and then grabs Catra’s hand in her eagerness. Adora drags them through the halls, pulling them into the private elevator outside Glimmer’s office. There are other ways to Angella’s office, but this is the fastest with Adora’s executive clearance.

Catra’s tail whips to hit harshly against Adora’s leg. Adora pauses, looking down at it questioningly and then looking up at Catra. Catra is flushed, gaze darting down and then back up. She tugs on her hand in Adora’s grip. Right. Adora is not supposed to touch her at work. She did just drag her through the hallways, passing several people, but there also is no one to _tell on them_ considering Angella and Juliet already know. Still, Adora drops Catra’s hand reluctantly as the elevator reaches Angella’s office, opening up just outside of her waiting lounge.

Juliet is already there, waiting outside and motioning them into Angella’s office. Adora opens the documents she forwarded to Angella, sending them to the large screen display on the wall of the office as they wait for Glimmer and Bow.

Adora’s head is spinning a little as she prepares the files. Unraveling all this has been a massive headache, but she has gotten far too invested in it because of the chase for her parents. It is not solving their disappearance – but it gives her a rush as if it were. As if it is _possible_ now.

Catra sits right beside her on the couch before the screen, sides brushing. She never does this in front of other people, this is firmly on the _okay in private_ list, but she looks a little concerned. Adora must be more visibly affected then she thought – she must be _more affected_ than she thought. Catra is staying in _catching_ range should she pass out.

Glimmer finally arrives, Bow on her heels. She raises her eyebrows at the information on the screen as she and Bow settle on the far end of the couch. Once everyone is seated, Adora launches into her explanation.

“Prime Industries is a real company. Was, anyway. They manufactured machine parts near the end of the industrial revolution. They still claim to now, but I have no evidence of them producing _anything_ in the last eighty years. Money just moves in and out of company accounts without any product or business deals to back it up,” Adora explains, clicking through the different documents she has managed to get ahold of.

“The transfers in are pay-ins. The transfers out are all withdrawals of the payments, charges to get the job done, or bribes. Catra thinks they are an espionage ring. Prime Industries was just supposed to steal Entrapta’s designs for a client. I’ve been trying to track down who that client is,” Adora tells the room as a whole. Some of this is known by various people in the room, but she honestly cannot remember who she has ranted to about which parts of the investigation.

To her side, Glimmer pauses. “I know Entrapta is our primary concern, but what do we do about… all this?” Glimmer asks, motioning to the screen with clear worry.

“Too large, and unimportant to our day-to-day operations. This is a criminal network using a single company as a front, I would guess. I say we take care of the Entrapta issue and then turn over any evidence we acquired legally to the authorities and let them sort it out,” Juliet cuts in, shaking her head. Catra nods immediately. Adora wants to argue, but given what she has seen just in tracking this down, she suspects they are right. She just has to hope the authorities will take care of the rest of it. She takes a calming breath, changing her focus with the pointer.

“I finally found who paid in for the theft. It was a dentist in Boston,” Adora explains, pulling up the money transfer statement. Glimmer leans around Bow to look at her incredulously. Adora just grins. “She does cosmetic dentistry. She makes money, but not _this_ much. She is a mistress to the CEO of First Ones Innovation. Entrapta’s lead competitor – a few years ago, anyway,” Adora explains.

It was not enough to trace the money to the origin through all the obscured transfers – sometimes the origin made no sense. Adora took one look at the bank statement and, after a week of Catra’s help, knew she had to be having an affair with someone more important.

“They were the big name before Entrapta exploded onto the scene five years ago. They have been bleeding money trying to develop something that can compete and so far have nothing to show for it. Seems they have realized they won’t manage on their own. Their CEO is Skell Torres,” Adora explains, pulling up the company profile and an absolutely _sleezy_ image of Skell. Every lesbian in the room wrinkles her nose, and Glimmer and Angella aren’t doing much better. Adora quickly takes down Skell’s picture and multiple people breathe sighs of relief. Catra actually places a grateful hand on her knee.

“Skell’s first plan fell apart when Catra stopped the theft. I think I have found his backup, now,” Adora says. To her right, Catra blushes, ears twitching back and withdrawing her hand quickly as the room’s attention turns to her. Adora grins to herself, nudging Catra lightly with her shoulder. Catra scoffs, turning her face away, but she is still blushing. Adora redirects attention back to the screen before she gets too overwhelmed.

“Entrapta had another round of negotiations yesterday. She is accepting offers from three buyers. One of them is Salineas, the underwater construction company. They traditionally buy from First Ones Innovation, but they want to expand and need the mainframe’s processing power to coordinate all their submersive tech. Skell needs the short-term funding from his current Salineas contract renewing if First Ones even wants to make it through this fiscal year,” Adora explains, pulling up the Salineas Construction profile.

“Skell was born rich and is a career CEO, but it won’t look good if a company goes under while he is leading it. He is hosting a gala next week, and he has invited big names in the industry, local politicians and influential families, and all his clients – that means Entrapta _and_ the Salineas family will be there,” Adora explains, pulling up her final files.

To her right, Catra is already pulling out her phone.

\--

“Wildcat?” Scorpia questions, clearly shocked. It is fair – Catra has only called her three times since they finished their job together, each time loneliness consuming her so fully she cracked and reached out for anyone to hold onto – for anyone to distract her from searching out Adora and finding she was not wanted anymore.

“Is Entrapta going to the Skell Gala?” Catra questions, staring at the invitation on the screen. In the room around her, she can see people shifting, but Adora just drops a hand on her knee and squeezes encouragingly.

“I mean, I shouldn’t say-“ Scorpia starts to argue, and then cuts herself off. “Why?”

“First Ones Innovation is coming for blood. I recognize a set up for an assassination when I see one. Someone at Alliance will be calling with more details later, but put on partial lockdown procedures until after the gala,” Catra tells her. Scorpia draws in a sharp breath.

“Okay, I’m sure I can convince her to stay home. She was only going because she felt bad for running Mr. Torres out of business, anyway,” Scorpia agrees.

“Keep her safe, Scorpia. You know what to do,” Catra returns, the most encouragement she can offer before hanging up. She finally looks up at the room around her as she slips her phone away. She is being stared at – at least by Glimmer and Bow. Angella is looking thoughtfully at the screen while Juliet narrows her eyes at Catra. Adora is looking at her too, but Adora is _always_ looking at her.

“What? It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Catra asks, feeling her tail lash against her hip.

“No? It isn’t?” Glimmer returns, sounding mildly scandalized by the implication. Catra rolls her eyes.

“That is because you’re sheltered. I’ll bet Skell is going to try to talk his way into the Salineas contract, and if that fails, he will take out Entrapta to give them no choice,” Catra explains, motioning towards the screen. Glimmer stares at her with wide eyes, but she does not seem to _doubt_ her.

“I think Catra is right about this. Even if it is not an assassination, he cannot want Entrapta there for a good reason. We know her, we can keep her away from the gala. Once her contract with Salineas is signed, Skell will have little motivation to go after her. It will be too late for him. Once approved, the order would be fulfilled even in her absence,” Juliet cuts in, but she is still eyeing Catra. Juliet definitely suspects something, but Catra can only hope she has not guessed where her knowledge base comes from. Her whole _job_ is preventing assassinations, after all.

“Entrapta needs to stay away, but I did mention _families of influence_. We were invited too,” Adora says from beside her. Catra feels her ears flatten. Of _course_ Adora is going to keep pushing this. Catra can protect her from other people, but no one can save Adora from herself. Angella turns to look at Adora, narrowing her eyes.

Catra shoots her a pleading look, and when that doesn’t work, sends Juliet one as well. Juliet gives an almost imperceptible shrug. It is out of her hands. Adora and Angella continue to stare each other down. “I’m not the target,” Adora argues. Angella narrows her eyes, but she sighs in defeat, raising her hand with a dismissive wave. A white flag – but it is _going_ to be stained red.

“Adora, why don’t you and Catra go dress shopping tomorrow?” Angella concedes. Catra gapes.

\--

“So, let me get this straight,” Catra starts the moment she has them locked in Adora’s office and the room secured, “You want to walk into a gala that you _know_ is a trap for your friend, where there will likely be an assassination _waiting to go_ , because, what, you are _curious_?” Catra demands, one step below fuming. As she has spoken, she has taken multiple steps closer until Adora is shrinking in her chair, looking at her sheepishly.

“I’m not the target,” she argues. Catra’s stare burns holes in her eyes. “I’m _not_ ,” she reiterates. “Taking me out would do no harm to Entrapta, she is still in with Angella and Glimmer. An Alliance executive going down won’t help Skell with any of his problems, it would just add scrutiny. I’ll bring both you and Juliet, and I won’t eat or drink anything, I promise. We can’t call the cops – the access I have to the financial system is not _legal_. We can tell them that Prime Industries is a front, but that won’t get taken apart fast enough to help Entrapta.”

Catra is glaring at her, but Adora knows her well enough to know that look, and it is not anger. It is fear. Cautiously, Adora reaches out for her. Catra tracks her every movement, letting Adora’s hands find her hips and pull her into her lap, holding her close and resting her chin on Catra’s shoulder.

“I promise to be careful and do everything you tell me. If you see something and need to call it at any point, I’ll go. But I _solved_ this one, Catra. I need to see what happens with it, and someone has to warn the Salineas family in case something starts to look off,” Adora tells her, wrapping her arms around her waist and hoping the touch is enough to reassure her.

Catra releases a shaking breath. “I don’t make you invincible, Adora. I would fucking die for you, but there is no guarantee they won’t get you even with me there,” Catra tells her, conviction searing in her words. Adora swallows, pulling back far enough to look Catra in the eye.

“I know I can still get hurt. But I trust you, and I see no reason for them to go after me,” Adora returns. The dying declaration she is going to have to unpack _later_ , because right now her priority is assuring Catra. Catra sighs, staring into her eyes a long moment before Adora sees her give in.

“I’m only agreeing to this because I _know_ they are not going to go after you. I still don’t like you exposing yourself to a dangerous situation, but targets don’t change on the fly like that. I am _not_ wearing a fucking dress, though,” Catra tells her.

\--

Catra is wearing a dress, it turns out. To get both her and Juliet in the gala, Juliet comes as Adora’s bodyguard, and Catra comes as her plus one. Catra does her best not to flush at the realization that she will be acting as Adora’s _date_ for the evening, and when she fails at that she tries to pass it off as anger about the idea of a dress. Catra has worn plenty of dresses, but not since she was slipping into dignitaries’ chambers in the dead of night or charming her way into art auctions.

She does not _like_ dresses, and she likes the options to hide weapons in them even less. The gala will be screened for weapons, however, so she is mostly limited to her disguised garrotes anyway. Her weapons-turned-jewelry match better with a slinky number draped off Adora’s arm than a suit-wearing bodyguard anyway. They have to go shopping. Catra does not own anything that could pass, and though Adora _does_ , apparently she has worn them within the current _cycle_ , whatever that means, so she needs to pick something new up or be a social pariah.

“Why do you make being rich so much work?” Catra asks as Adora leads her past the ballgown section. Absolutely not. If they are doing this, it is going to be skintight and flexible. Adora laughs, eyes dancing.

“I would go to a gala in sweats, you know this about me. It is everyone else who has to be so damn picky,” Adora tells her, turning to greet the staff warmly. Adora handles the sales assistants, listing colours and themes and Catra’s list of requirements – black, tight, practical so she can fight, covers her scars – before retreating to the massive dressing room they have been given.

“I hate this,” Catra tells her, determinedly, arms crossed. This store is exactly what she expected the tailors to be, but on such short notice they do not have much of a choice. One of the sales assistants keeps eyeing her and asking her questions directly. She is – futilely – trying to flirt with her, but Catra does not want to deal with _any_ of this.

Adora rubs a hand on her shoulder soothingly, looking at her sympathetically. “I promise you will get to wear a tux next time. We’ll go get you some evening suits soon so you can have something ready to go, but business suits are not going to fly at a gala,” Adora tells her, hand on her shoulder sliding up the back of her neck to massage at the base of her ear.

Catra feels herself blush, a purr stuttering into existence despite all her annoyance. She is acutely aware Adora had introduced her to the sales assistants as her _date_ and they have been calling her _Ms. Grayskull’s partner_ ever since. They were given a shared dressing room that has a _wine cooler_ and _floral arrangements_. Catra _knows_ there are honeymoon suites less decorated than this. Smaller, too. Luckily, a knock on the door saves her from that line of thinking.

The sales assistant with the hots for her is back, three dresses hanging off her arm. She offers them to her a bit apologetically. “These are the only ones we have in black that meet all your requirements. If you wish to expand the colour range-“ she starts.

“No, this will do,” Catra cuts her off, eyeing the choices. She worries someone is going to bleed on this – black is really the only safe option. She has already made her decision, anyway. The assistant cuts off quickly, giving her a small bow.

“Would you like assistance trying them on, miss?” The assistant tries, voice perfectly polite. Catra knows better, but she is not expecting _Adora_ to. Adora clears her throat loudly behind them. Catra’s ears automatically swivel towards the sound as Adora approaches, one of her arms coming up to wrap around Catra's back. Adora’s hand lands on Catra’s waist. Adora is outright _glaring_ at the girl.

“I will take things from here,” Adora cuts in. The sales assistant looks like she might piss herself facing down Adora’s intensity, nodding and bowing quickly before she retreats from the dressing room. Catra’s breath is coming a little fast, feeling the _heat_ rolling off Adora as her arm uselessly flexes around Catra’s back from her contained irritation. After a moment, Adora lets out a long breath and sends her a sheepish look. “Sorry, she just wasn’t getting the hint,” she tells her, a bit apologetically.

Catra _stares_ at Adora. That is not what that was and she _knows_ it. Adora has not even let _go_ of her yet. She knows Adora can be generally protective and jealous, but she has never been outright _possessive_ of Catra like that before. Then again – Catra has never been sleeping in her bed like this before. Ever since Wednesday, she has given up deluding herself on that, though she is still determined to sleep at the foot of the bed until there is a nightmare. It is a king bed anyway – she has plenty of room to curl up or stretch out.

Catra swallows. “No, you’re right. She wasn’t going to back off,” Catra agrees, voice a little hoarse. It is a dance of denial and she is familiar with it. She can play, for Adora. She _has_ to, for herself. The tension that started gathering in Adora at the assistant’s initial offer finally disperses, shoulders falling and smile a touch relieved as she motions to the dresses.

“So, what do you want to try first?” she asks. Catra only has one choice, really. One of the dresses has a high slit, which allows for good movement but is not fully appropriate for the gala. Another one is modestly lowcut, which is far from ideal for fighting should something break out. She has fought in just about any clothing arrangement, but if one of her tits came out while she was trying to get Adora to safety, Adora might just pass out.

She tries on the third option, a tight black dress with an asymmetric neckline and one lace sleeve. The lace goes up to a high neck, which will not completely hide the scars on the back of her neck, but the rest of the work can be done by wearing her hair down. She pulls it on while Adora keeps her back turned.

“Can you do the zipper for me? This thing is like four thousand dollars and I’m worried about getting my claws near it,” Catra requests, pulling her hair over her shoulder to give Adora better access to the back. She _really_ does not want her mane caught in the zipper. In the mirror – or rather, in the quad-fold of mirrors that assaults her from all angles – she watches Adora’s shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath and turns around.

Adora flushes at the sight of her, but she manages to keep herself together otherwise, walking up and reaching for the zipper at her lower back. Catra fights the urge to arch into Adora’s touch as she braces one hand on her lower back and pulls the zipper up, far slower than necessary. When she finishes, Adora drops both hands to her waist, still staring determinedly at the back of Catra’s neck as she apparently tries to will her blush into non-existence.

“Well? What do you think?” Catra prompts, because she is an _asshole_. Adora swallows and looks up to make eye contact with her in the mirror. Her face immediately goes blank, jaw a little slack, and Catra smirks in victory. Adora has been struggling as is with Catra’s new tailored suits all week. Apparently a skintight black dress is her death sentence. Her brain certainly does not seem to be functioning any longer. Maybe dresses _are_ okay.

“You… look good,” Adora manages, still blatantly _looking_ , eyes traveling along the lines of Catra’s body on clear display in the tight dress. Maybe it is the illusion of distance that the mirror gives that is allowing her to admire Catra so openly. Usually she immediately looks away and tries to distract herself. Just because Catra is _trying_ not to give in to Adora does not mean she wants to, and she feels the purr rise in her chest at Adora’s obvious desire.

Adora flushes, apparently realizing she has been caught looking, apparently realizing she has been _touching_ , hands flying away from Catra’s waist as she takes a hasty step back, turning away a little and rubbing a hand at the back of her neck. “You, um, should get that one. I don’t know that the other two are that appropriate for a gala, anyway,” Adora rambles a bit, still not looking at Catra. Catra is fine with that – she already looked _plenty_. Catra’s purr echoes throughout the dressing room, but she has a _reminder_.

“Adora. It is four thousand dollars,” she points out. Adora actually does look at her now to raise an eyebrow.

“So? I can afford it, and Alexander McQueen is _always_ appropriate for a gala,” Adora says to her. Catra does her best not to stare at her. Sometimes she forgets about those six years where Adora had time to get adjusted to this kind of thing. Adora huffs, apparently having collected herself enough to step back to the center of the room, meeting Catra’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m buying it. I like you in it,” Adora tells her, matter-of-fact.

Catra feels herself flush, tail lashing just a bit beneath the hem of the dress. They will have to get the back altered for her, but the change will be quick and ready in plenty of time for the gala. Still, Catra is going to be thinking about Adora so blatantly admitting her attraction for the next _week_ until she puts this on again.

Adora is flushing and looking a bit sheepish. Apparently she has also realized what she said, but from the intensity in her eyes, she is not backing down on this. Catra swallows, stepping back towards the door to the dressing room. “Fine. I don’t like the others, anyway. Let’s get you something and be done with it,” Catra agrees.

Adora seems to breathe a sigh of relief on not being called on her words. As if Catra ever would. The second they address this thing between them Catra’s self-control is going to shatter. She settles for watching the jealousy spark in Adora’s eyes again as they step out of the dressing room and the sales assistants catch sight of them. The girl who had offered to help Catra catches sight of Adora over her shoulder and visibly swallows.

To keep Adora from traumatizing the poor girl, Catra speaks. “We’re getting this one. Find Adora something that will complement it. Make it something she can dance in, and the back has to be covered,” Catra addresses them. The sales assistants bow eagerly and immediately set off to search out matches.

Catra turns back into the dressing room to find Adora just behind her shoulder. She raises an eyebrow at her. Adora cringes back a little, looking embarrassed at the way she was _definitely_ death staring at the lesbian just trying to do her job. She looks away, stepping aside to allow Catra back into the changing room.

“What has gotten into you today?” Catra asks as she sweeps by, settling carefully to sit on the lounge. She needs to keep the dress on to make sure it matches well with Adora’s, but she would be lying to herself if she did not acknowledge that she wants Adora to keep looking at her in it.

Adora is never _like this_. People flirt with Catra regularly – although, granted, hardly ever in front of Adora – but when it _is,_ usually she is unbothered. Or, perhaps more aptly, she does not _notice_. Clearly it bothers her, her reactions to Scorpia have been evidence enough of that, but the sales assistant was not more overt than the accounting intern had been on Tuesday. Somehow that had entirely escaped her notice.

Adora looks ashamed, turning away with a sigh. “It’s stupid,” she tells her, shrugging like she thinks that is going to be the end of it.

“I’m supposed to be the possessive one, Adora,” Catra points out. Adora actually huffs at that, turning around to glare indistinctly over Catra’s shoulder.

“No, you’re not. I just never felt like I had a right to it and I knew you were my friend regardless, so I buried it,” Adora counters. Catra blinks at her, a soft purr starting in her chest at the implication Adora has been feeling like this for _years_.

Catra wants to ask _what changed_ , but that is a dangerous topic to introduce. A lot has changed, and even if they are not _together_ , there sure as hell is not room for anyone else in either of their lives. Maybe just the fact that they are sleeping together now, with all the added intimacies they have gained in the privacy of Adora’s home, is enough to start triggering this reaction in her now.

Adora shrinks a little under her gaze. “It’s stupid,” she reiterates, but Catra can tell she is close to breaking. After a long moment Adora sighs. “I know it’s just a _cover_ or whatever, but we told them you’re my date and she still made that pass at you,” Adora explains, motioning in the air as she looks indistinctly at the wall, cheeks a bit flushed.

It is _not_ just a cover, but Catra cannot correct her on that, not when she is too busy purring to herself at how jealous Adora is getting about people disrespecting their non-existent relationship. Luckily she is saved from having to say anything by the ringing of the fucking _doorbell_ in the dressing room wall. The assistants have returned with a small stack of a half dozen options.

“If none of these are to your liking, let us know and we can go fetch more. These are the ones we felt would complement your first choice best,” the secondary sales assistant, a twink who does not look old enough to be handling three thousand-dollar dresses, tells them before bowing and exiting the room.

Apparently _complementary_ to the sales assistants means either black dresses that are highly similar to Catra’s, or pure white dresses that contrast with it. Catra wrinkles her nose a little just glancing at the options. “Try the whites first. The blacks are going into _matching_ territory and I refuse to be that kind of couple,” Catra tells Adora. Adora laughs, but she also flushes as she pulls aside the white dresses.

The first dress she tries on is a drapey number, a slit up the leg and plunging neckline contrasted with a cinched bell sleeve. It might not be _gala_ appropriate, but it would be fine – for anyone but Adora. “That dress cannot contain your tits, princess,” Catra snickers as she comes up behind her to carefully poke a claw at her side. She does _not_ want to accidentally tear this dress. Adora huffs, looking down at the straining neckline. Catra is _definitely_ looking too, though indirectly.

“You got lucky,” she agrees, turning away to change. Catra knows she is talking about her smaller chest and how she does not even need to wear a bra, but where Catra _really_ got lucky was getting to admire how _Adora_ filled out. She does not say any of that, though, as she waits for Adora to change again.

The second dress Catra would go as far as to call ugly on anyone but Adora. Tight white fabric with a high neck, long sleeves, and a twist of fabric at the hip. It clings to Adora’s body – Catra can see her _abs_ through it – and despite covering nearly every inch of Adora’s skin she might as well be _naked_ in it.

“ _No_ ,” Catra downright growls, looking quickly away when Adora startles in surprise at her conviction. She can feel Adora’s eyes on her, taking in her rising flush and lashing tail, but Catra will never be able to keep her eyes open for danger if she can’t look away from Adora at all. Her fur already feels hot just looking at Adora in this dress – she can’t imagine what she would do actually _touching_ her, hanging off her arm.

“It, uh, is strangely indecent,” Adora agrees. When Catra looks at her again, Adora is flushed, watching her with obvious _interest_ that only makes Catra’s blush _worse_. They are both way too gay to be in this room together, and Adora still might as well be standing naked in the center of the room. Catra can make out every dip and curve of her body.

“It would be modest on anybody but you. Try something else,” Catra tells her, a little desperate. She knows how obvious she is being right now. She _needs_ Adora to change. Adora nods, seeming reluctant when she turns away. Catra gets it – if she had elicited that kind of reaction in Adora, _when_ she elicited that reaction in Adora, she would not have given it up easily. Catra really does have to _work_ though. She also _never_ wants someone else to see that much of Adora.

The third white option Adora tries has Catra’s breath catching, but at least her tail is still. It is a different kind of stuttering, anyway. This dress is not _filthy_ like the last had been. It is tight, with a very similar cut as Catra’s, but more structured. The neckline is asymmetric, a cape trailing down over one shoulder. They would match in a way, but the dresses are still rather different.

Adora looks like a Grecian goddess in it. She stands, statuesque in the center of the room as she frowns at herself in the mirror. “It will be close at the shoulders, but it covers my switch scars, and it is at least decent,” she says, like Catra is not having a crisis seeing Adora looking so flawless. She stands with the poise of a lady who belongs to society – for the last few years, at least – but she is still talking in that dismissive, casual, _Adora_ way.

Catra takes a deep breath and approaches Adora to stand beside her in the mirror, taking her arm to drape herself from it and consult their reflections. Her cheeks are still flushed, her tail still twitching, but at least she can’t tell that Adora’s nipples are hard through thin fabric anymore. Adora meets her eyes in the reflection, throwing her a hopeful smile. Catra clears her throat.

“You look good, Adora. And they go well together. I say let’s buy them and get the fuck home,” Catra tells her, managing to keep her voice mostly even despite the blush. She is still a little hoarse. Adora beams, a little smug, but she does not comment or pull away. Catra fights to have the willpower not to grope Adora’s arm while she is touching it and fails. Adora won’t notice, anyway. She is an idiot.

Catra tears herself away, crossing the dressing room to change back into the leggings and loose sweater she had arrived in, refusing to dress appropriately for the high-end store. She listens to Adora changing behind her, not daring to turn around until all the sounds have stopped.

When they exit the dressing room, Catra automatically sweeps the area as she follows Adora, but she is so focused on staying aware despite how her entire mind has been reduced to ash she completely forgets about the horny sales assistant. When she reappears at their side, asking if they found everything to their liking, Catra is blindsided by Adora’s arm once again wrapping around her waist and pulling her in against her side, possessive and deliberate.

Adora talks to the assistant, clearly trying to be polite as she asks her to wrap their selections. Adora does not let go of Catra, steering her to the counter and paying one-handed as she idly chats with the man working there. Catra says nothing, blush still blazing as long as Adora’s arm stays around her. Adora does not drop it until they leave the store, and Catra does not begin to breathe normally again until they are in the car.

\--

Maybe Adora is feeling too confident. She had been a disaster in the store while Catra was trying on her dress and Catra had seemed to _enjoy_ it. She did not seem bothered by Adora’s ugly jealousy either. And then Adora had started trying on options and Catra was reduced to just as much of a mess as Adora had been – a _lesbian disaster_ , in Glimmer’s words.

Adora’s confidence is not lessened when she comes out from her closet after changing for bed to find Catra is waiting for her, already stretched out across the end of the bed with her eyes closed. Catra has been sleeping in Adora’s bed off-and-on for three weeks now but, barring a nightmare, she always waits until after Adora goes to bed to sneak in as if she thinks that makes it a secret.

As glad as Adora is to have Catra there, she also wants Catra _here_ , at the head of the bed with her and in her arms. She should not push it, not after Catra is coming to her before the lights are even off. But here Catra is, stretched out in her bed like it is the only place she wants to be, and Adora’s chest is feeling too full. She is usually afraid of scaring Catra off, but the _confidence_ is driving the fear off right now.

She hesitates, crossing the room to shut off the light just to give herself the time to think. When she reaches her bed, she pauses at the foot of it. With everything else that has happened, they have not gotten to have the _sleeping_ discussion they need to so desperately. Adora had been planning to give it until the weekend to let Catra have time after having to admit it all to Juliet on Wednesday.

It is the weekend. Catra said sleeping at the end of the bed was a _defence_. She has nothing to defend against – not from Adora, and not from anyone else knowing either. Adora will defend _her_ until her absolute last breath, but Adora does not know the words to convince her of that.

She takes a risk. Catra is not asleep, just settled with her eyes closed as if that gives her a layer of deniability. Her ears are still swiveled towards Adora, twitching a little as she waits for Adora to get in the bed or say something, probably. Adora leans forward, smoothing a hand down the length of her arm to pet her soothingly.

Catra releases a soft, contented sigh, the tension leaking out of her. Adora repeats the motion, letting her other hand come up to pet down her leg. Catra shivers a little at the touch but does not so much as twitch away. Adora has both hands on her now, and it is easy to slide them down and scoop under her, lifting Catra into her arms.

She braces herself for claws, and growling, but Catra just lets out a small hiss approaching a squeak as Adora carries her to lay her out at the head of the bed, climbing in after her. Catra lays frozen as Adora presses against her back, wrapping an arm around her waist if only to keep her from running. She can feel Catra’s heart pounding where her back meets her chest. Adora rearranges the pillows to be in a better position for her, hoping she will relax, but her body remains tense as Adora finally settles them both down together.

“Is this okay?” she asks Catra, softly, squeezing the arm around Catra’s waist as if there is any doubt what _this_ is. She wants Catra up here desperately, but she does not want to drive her from the bed entirely. Catra is silent for a long moment.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask that first?” she asks. She does not sound upset – uncertain, definitely, but so is Adora, so she can work with that. Adora feels the corner of her mouth quirk up as she smooths down some of Catra’s hair to keep it out of her face.

“You would have said no. Now you are _here_ : is this okay?” Adora explains, petting down Catra’s arm again and hoping it is enough to sooth her. Her fur is not bristling, and it is not standing on end either, but it is a bit _ruffled_.

“That’s not how consent works,” Catra returns, her voice a bit small, but there is a twist of humour to it. She is still largely unreadable to Adora. She is not upset, but that is the best Adora has. She thinks this is _okay_ , but that does not mean Catra _likes_ it.

“It’s _sleeping_ together, not… sleeping together,” Adora trails off. The argument is so weak she does not know why she started it. Neither of them are _innocent_ in their thoughts of the other, regardless of feelings and intentions. Adora is a stuttering idiot for Catra, and she _might_ have unofficially declared she wanted to be life partners in seventh grade, in hindsight. She would be an idiot – she _has been_ an idiot – to think Catra does not know.

She might be an idiot now, to hope Catra feels the same, but she is _here_ , and she has not left, at least not yet. Catra sighs, the sound soft and a bit sad. “I’ll stay. Tonight,” she offers, with no further explanation. It is _okay_ – but it is not happening again. Not while Catra is still _defending_.

“You said it was a defence. The bed is safe, Catra. No one is breaking us apart,” Adora tries, pressing a bit closer as if to reassure her with the touch of her body against her. She just wants Catra to know she is here, that they are safe, that Adora is not going to let a single thing pull them away from each other again.

“It isn’t that,” Catra whispers, her tail thudding heavily once against the mattress. After a moment’s hesitation, Catra wraps it around Adora’s leg instead. Adora lifts her leg a little to give Catra easy access before she seems content with her grip. She lets her leg fall back to the mattress, holding Catra tight in her arms.

She does not know what it _is_ then. She does not know how to convince Catra that this is all she wants. “… Stay?” Adora asks, her voice weak. It worked the first night Catra came to her, and she can’t lose Catra again. Catra’s shoulders hunch in, her ears pinning back, and Adora feels her throat clench down on her fear. She pushed her too far.

“I can’t have this and lose it,” Catra whispers, voice rough. It hits Adora like an avalanche that she is not talking about sleeping at the head of the bed, not really. She _knows_ her grip turns crushing, pulling Catra in against her, but she can’t let go, not now.

“You are not losing me, Catra. Not ever,” Adora promises her, conviction giving her voice its strength back. In her arms, Catra shivers, but her ears do not come back up.

“You don’t know what I have done, but you will figure it one day, and you won’t want me in your bed anymore. I can’t have this much of you and lose it. I- I won’t _survive_ it, Adora,” Catra manages. Her voice is shaking. Her shoulders are too, with every breath, ragged and _scared_.

Suddenly, all of Catra’s reluctance _clicks_ for Adora. The way she was always clawing for her but turning away, the way she clearly wanted but denied herself, the weird lines she drew and then went looking for ways around herself. Catra thinks there is something she has done – that there is _anything she could do_ – that will lose her Adora. Adora could almost laugh at the very idea.

“What is your number, Catra?” Adora cuts in, her voice firm. Catra stiffens in her arms, entire body stilling dangerously as her heart pounds into Adora’s chest. Adora does not have the senses Catra does, but the fear is still obviously pouring off of her.

“What?” she asks, hoarse, her voice shaking.

“Your number, Catra. _Tell_ me,” Adora insists. She does not soften the hard line in her voice. Catra audibly swallows, her tail unwinding from Adora’s leg to wrap around her own hip. Adora is not sure if Catra is preparing to run, or if she is expecting Adora to leave the bed after this. Likely, she expects to be _kicked out_.

“Thirteen,” Catra whispers. Her shoulders hunch, _waiting_. Adora draws in a slow breath.

Thirteen people dead because of Catra. Dead by Catra’s hand. Her number is lower than Juliet’s – a _lot_ lower, actually. Juliet was a merc for several years longer than Catra, and she was part of a militia for hire. Adora _knows_ that is not what Catra did. Based off what she has told her throughout the Prime investigation, Adora is fairly clear on just _how_ Catra killed.

Adora tries to find it within herself to be deterred by it. It would not be fair to Catra if she did not – she needs to confront it first, to be certain, before she takes this next step. Adora confronted this a long time ago, though, the first time she saw Catra watch someone trip and _not laugh_ , remaining impassive despite the flick of her ear. She tries to scare herself off, but she can’t, not when she sees the deep shame in Catra’s hunched shoulders. Not when she knows what it sounds like when Catra screams herself awake at night.

“Okay,” Adora murmurs, sliding her arms to wrap them both fully around Catra’s waist, pinning their bodies together. “I don’t _care_ ,” she decides. Catra twitches in her arms, spasming as if to turn back to look at her, but she aborts the motion, falling limply against the sheets.

“It wasn’t just violence. I spied, and I assassinated, and I planted evidence. Adora, someone like _me_ took your parents from you,” Catra tells her, words shaking. Adora _knows_ she has never admitted any of this before. Adora knows she is trying to drive her away now before it is too late.

It has been too late ever since Adora was five years old, Catra quietly leading her into a closet and crawling into her lap, purring as she directed Adora’s hands to pet through her mane. It worked just like she intended, drying Adora’s tears and calming her after she disappointed Shadow.

“You didn’t have a fucking _choice_ , Catra. I don’t care about your past. I love you, and I’m not letting Hordak or Shadow take that from us. They have taken enough,” Adora tells her, voice vehement. Adora swallows thickly. “If- if the person who killed my parents didn’t get a choice either, if they regretted it like you did, I would forgive them too,” Adora whispers, her voice soft now.

She knows it is true, even if it would be a hell of a lot harder. Catra’s breath catches in her arms. She is still a long moment, and then she is twisting in Adora’s arms, facing her and staring at her. Her eyes are wide, tears pricked at the corners, gaze searching as she tries to find a sign Adora is lying.

Catra must not find the proof she is looking for, because she surges forward, kissing Adora desperately.

\--

Catra crawls atop Adora, kissing her with all the starving hunger she has been holding back for years. She can’t stop, not _now_ , but Adora is giving her no signal that she wants her to, a hand on her waist and the other in her hair, kissing her back with just as much desperation. Catra knows she is whining against Adora’s mouth, hell, she might be _crying_ even, but she is not stopping.

Adora tastes just like she remembers from that first, disastrous kiss in eighth grade, Catra straining forward to meet her without warning from where she was supposed to be sleeping beside Adora in the bed. Adora had _squeaked_ , eyes wide and shocked, causing one of their roommates to stir and Catra to panic.

She was bolting up to the top bunk and curling in a ball before Adora could stop her. She silently cried herself to sleep that night, and she avoided Adora for a week afterwards. It took another two for her to sleep at the foot of her bed again, and she never slept beside her again after that. Adora only brought it up once, and after Catra avoided her for _another_ week, she got the hint to drop the subject.

That kiss had been at most _two_ _seconds_ , a brush of lips followed by immediate panic. Now, Adora kisses her long and hard, licking into her mouth and along her _fangs_. Catra shakes against her, moaning and pressing in as she twists her fingers into Adora’s shirt with shaking hands, desperate to have her beneath her, against her, _be_ hers.

Adora puts up no protest, moaning back as Catra nips against her lower lip and _gasping_ when a fang catches her. She strains forward, up, seeking _more_ , her hand in Catra’s hair pulling her back down to kiss her needily. Catra is feeling light-headed from the intensity, but she also can’t stop. She never wants to do anything but taste Adora, not now Adora _knows_ and is still moaning for her.

Catra shifts to properly straddle Adora’s hips, her tail lashing behind her as she whimpers softly into the kiss. Adora kisses her back, but when they part for air, her hand in her hair slides down to cup Catra’s cheek, holding her still and holding her _back_. Catra stares down at her, well aware Adora cannot see her in the dark.

Adora is flushed, her eyes blown out, a bruise forming on her bottom lip from Catra’s bite. Her chest is rising and falling quickly, breathless from the intensity. Her gaze is searching despite how Catra knows the best she can make out is the glint of her eyes.

“I want this, Catra – I’ve _always_ wanted it – but I need to know you are okay,” Adora tells her, fingers stroking lightly at the underside of Catra’s jaw. “You were crying, and I _think_ it was good, but I need to know,” she adds, voice soft. Catra shivers, nudging into the touch as a purr starts deep in her chest.

“It was good. It has taken everything in me to hold back, Adora,” Catra returns, pressing in again. Adora groans, kissing her back eagerly. The hand from her jaw is back in her hair, tangling in it and _pulling_ to angle Catra’s mouth back. Catra hisses, but it has nothing to do with the sensation. Adora knows how to _do this_ , and it should not make Catra jealous, not when she thought Catra was _dead_ , but it does.

She tries to stamp down on it, but Adora hesitates at the hiss, and Catra can’t stop herself from pulling back to narrow her eyes down at Adora. “No hair-pulling. Got it,” Adora promises her, face flushed but a bit anxious. Catra forces herself to let her growl go, tucking down to nudge beneath her neck. Adora lets out a relieved breath, apparently content she did not go too far.

“It isn’t that. When I don’t have to be _presentable_ , you can do that. I just got jealous,” Catra tells her, lips brushing against Adora’s skin before she remembers she can _taste_ her now. She presses a kiss against Adora’s pulse point before biting, a short, experimental nip. Adora’s back arches beneath her, a stuttering gasp releasing, and that is all the encouragement Catra needs to repeat the motion, biting _properly_ now, higher up where Adora _can’t hide it_ , sucking a mark there. Adora is _hers_.

“Jealous?” Adora questions breathlessly, before keening softly when Catra’s next bite turns harsh. “Catra,” she breathes, voice needy and pleading. A shiver runs down Catra’s spine, straight between her legs, as her tail whips from side to side.

“Someone else has kissed you,” Catra grumbles, against her neck. She feels Adora still beneath her and freezes herself, forcing her panic down. “I’ve _tricked_ other people into bed, even if I never went further than what got them alone. I have no room to talk, Adora. I just got jealous, thinking of someone else having you like this,” Catra rushes out, hoping Adora doesn’t tell her to go, hating herself for feeling this way. Jealousy like this is not fun, or hot like Adora’s reactions had been in the store. It is just ugly.

The hand in her hair is gentle, but tugs insistently. Catra pulls herself back from Adora’s neck, tail limp in her disappointment as she sits back against Adora's hips. If Adora tells her to go, she will – she will just cry herself to sleep on the floor of her closet. It will be like the _last_ time they kissed. Nostalgic.

“Her name was Mermista. And I never went further than kisses on her couch,” Adora tells her, voice even. Catra feels her gaze snap to Adora’s. Adora’s eyes are soft, clearly trying to watch her as best as she can in the darkness of the room. “She just wanted to figure out if she was bi. I was never going to be able to date anyone but you, even if I thought you were gone, so I knew it was the only time I would be okay with kissing someone else,” Adora explains.

Catra swallows. “You didn’t have to tell me that,” she says, but she is so fucking _grateful_ and she knows her voice sounds it. She feels the tension leave her shoulders, knowing there was not someone else, not really. Not anyone Adora _cared_ about anyway. Adora shrugs beneath her.

“I don’t want to hide things from you. It didn’t mean anything – to either of us. She _is_ bi, but she has a boyfriend now. She might be at the gala. Salineas is her parent’s company,” Adora tells her. Catra stops, considering that. She hates that there is someone else who knows what Adora tastes like, but – Adora was so in love with her she thought there _could never be anyone else_ , not even thinking Catra was _dead_ then.

Catra _has_ her. She always has. She always will. Catra feels the purr rising in her chest, sees Adora’s startled expression as she leans down to kiss Adora again, some of the desperation soothed, kiss slow and loving. Adora’s breath stutters against her lips, but she kisses her back just as openly. Catra pulls back, dragging a mark against the underside of Adora’s jaw. She listens to Adora’s breath stutter. She snickers to herself.

“You’re an idiot,” she tells her, pulling back to observe the blush that has spilled down Adora neck at _one_ scent mark, meanwhile there are _three_ bruises blooming on the side of her neck. Adora blinks into the night, in the general direction of her voice, before biting her bottom lip and then immediately releasing it with a gasp when she bites down on the bruise Catra’s fang left _there_.

“Yeah. Yours, though,” Adora agrees. Catra feels her ears twitch, the statement echoed there obvious in Adora’s breathless anticipation alone. The last time she said it, Catra pulled away in panic. After a moment of processing, Catra leans forward again, nudging under her jaw to leave another mark.

“Yeah,” she breathes in agreement, purr rising.

\--

They end up on their sides, wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing long and slow, Catra nuzzling down to leave kisses, bites, and _marks_ along her jaw and neck. Adora sighs in contentment with each one, feeling some measure of peace leak into her body with each bruising mark, with each new symbol that Catra is here, in her arms and _happy_. Adora’s hands wander over Catra’s arms, shoulders, back, stroking through the fur there and mapping the locations of her new scars.

Kissing Catra is electric, making her entire body buzz with energy as it strains to be closer, feel more. She has been thinking about this ever since Catra kissed her that first time, awakening a part of Adora she did not even know was _there_ before. After Catra panicked so badly over it – after it _lost_ her Catra – Adora had been too afraid to ever talk about it, too afraid to make too overt of a move. They danced around each other for years. Anything they had was better than nothing – but _this_ is better than anything they had.

This is Catra’s purr echoing into her as she kisses her slowly, feeling the soft give of her curves beneath her hands as she runs them over her the way she has been wanting to for the last three weeks that she has woken up beside her. This is the soft gasps and whines Catra gives as Adora ducks down to kiss the column of her throat and the jut of her collar bones.

Adora takes Catra’s hands, because she has always had a _thing_ for them, and kisses each claw and knuckle while Catra breathes heavily. When she finally drops them, Catra kisses her like she has been suffocating without her, like she can only breathe Adora’s air.

The intensity flares, then ebbs, as they feel along each other’s bodies almost everywhere, but not quite, still limiting themselves for this first night. As Adora rubs at the base of Catra’s tail and earns needy whines and open moans - Catra shifting restlessly and arching her back, seeking _more_ – Adora decides that _not now_ does not mean _not soon_. This is the only sound she ever wants to hear again. Catra is panting against her as she moans, at least up until she cannot hold back the stutter of her hips any longer.

Catra crawls on top of her again with a possessive growl, kissing her hungrily as her tail lashes in her fever. Adora slows the kiss, framing her face with both hands and rubbing the base of her ears apologetically. She didn’t _mean_ to work her up like that, even if she did not stop once she realized what she was doing. Catra huffs against her lips, but she melts into the touch, wordlessly accepting the unspoken apology.

Catra travels down beneath her neck again, nudging along the marks she has _definitely_ left there, kissing them softly and occasionally laving her rough tongue over them, making Adora gasp and shiver beneath her. She clenches her thighs, trying to force her reaction _down_ , but Catra must pick up on it because she purrs. She returns to the gentle kisses, though, and Adora finds herself capable of breathing again.

Eventually, Catra yawns against her neck, head dropping to Adora’s shoulder. Adora turns to tuck her face into the top of Catra’s mane, reveling in the softness of it against her face.

“I’m gonna sleep here,” Catra mumbles against her. Her voice is groggy already. It is late – they _made_ it late with how long they kissed. Adora could still keep going happily, but she is pretty sure she would keep kissing Catra until she passed out. She strokes a hand through Catra’s mane soothingly and Catra purrs her satisfaction.

Adora never wants her to sleep _anywhere_ but draped across her chest. She is fairly confident Catra knows that, though, from the satisfaction rolling off her, so Adora just nods into her hair and presses a kiss against the top of her head. After a moment of silence, Catra speaks again.

“I’m yours too, you know,” she murmurs, voice soft. Adora feels her breath catch, swallowing as Catra nuzzles into her shoulder.

“I know,” she returns, even though until this moment she only knew she _hoped_ it was true. She thinks Catra understands her, anyway.

Catra follows through on her threat and falls asleep draped across Adora’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catra: *doesn’t laugh at something petty*. Adora: oh no she must be broken inside.  
> I promise there will be smut soon, just not for their first night.  
> Also, oops, the kiss thing that is the motivation behind all of Adora's "don't make her uncomfortable" isn't revealed until chapter 8 but hopefully y'all understand why she has been such a moron now.


	9. ACT I: Status Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Adora was going to learn self-restraint, she would have by now. She has loved a long time, and it is time to finally _voice_ it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all TOLD me to do this just remember that.

Adora wakes up with Catra in her arms on Sunday morning and fights the urge to kiss her for a solid three minutes before she remembers she is _allowed_ _to_ now. Catra is sprawled half on her, half _clinging_ to her side, purring gently in her sleep. Adora pets down the length of her back, free to _touch_ like she has been straining to for the last _month_. She presses kisses against her ears, the top of her head, and the side of her face. Eventually, a kiss against her temple causes Catra to stir.

Adora pulls back, feeling guilty for waking her, but Catra makes a small noise of displeasure and nudges closer. After a hesitant moment, Adora returns, kissing along the side of her face. Catra just continues to purr, hands absently kneading against Adora’s stomach and the bed as Adora works her way down to her jaw.

“Are you awake?” she breathes between kisses, because she really wants to _actually_ kiss her, but she is not going to do that until she is absolutely sure. Catra just huffs in response, tilting her chin back and nudging up into the touch. Adora grins against her skin on the next kiss. “Can I kiss you?” she asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek now, near the corner of her mouth.

Catra answers that question by kissing Adora herself. Adora sighs into the kiss, feeling it calm the edge of worry that had started to creep in that maybe Catra would wake up and come to her senses. She knew it was unfounded, but after so long, after losing Catra in more ways than one, she would not be able to take it again.

When they pull apart, Catra blinks at her blearily before looking up to peer out the window as if to read the sun. Looking at the clock would require turning around, but still, Adora highly doubts it will help. “We slept in again, didn’t we?” Catra asks, voice a rasp from sleep. Adora glances at the clock and decides not to mention the fact it is nearly noon.

“It’s Sunday. The only thing we are late for is our sparring session, and considering that is just _us_ , we can make it whenever we want,” Adora defends. Catra snorts, sitting up with a stretch and long yawn. She blinks down at Adora, gaze finding her neck. Adora swallows, remembering the marks she _knows_ are there. A possessive heat flares in Catra’s eyes that has Adora’s breath stuttering, but after a moment Adora sees another light dawn there.

“Your aunt is going to kill me,” Catra says, still not looking away from her neck. She does not sound in the slightest bit afraid, in fact she still looks a bit turned on, but if Angella _actually_ determined she wanted someone dead Adora is sure there is no country on Earth that could offer them safe refuge. Catra’s level of fear does not matter, though. Adora snorts and rolls her eyes.

“Remember when she wanted to see me on Wednesday? It was to give us her blessing and tell me that we are _good for each other_. You’re fine, Catra,” Adora assures her, reaching up to sweep her bangs out of her face. Catra purrs, leaning into the touch without seeming to realize she is doing it. When she does, she flushes and sits upright again.

“What, uh, did you tell her?” Catra stammers, flustered. Adora smiles to herself, sitting up and scooting closer to wrap her arms around Catra’s shoulders. Now Catra is letting her touch her – now she knows why she was so afraid of it before – she can’t _stop_. She just wants to feel Catra’s heartbeat against her at all times. She does not think that is too much to ask.

“I told her we weren’t together. And then she said of course not and told me to bring you to dinner more often,” Adora tells her, pressing a kiss against the base of her jaw. Catra’s breath catches and she seems to give in completely to nuzzling closer this time.

“Come on, let’s get dressed so you can beat the crap out of me before Juliet sends a search party,” Adora tells her, pressing one last kiss against the side of Catra’s face before she forces herself to stand. As she does so, Catra’s tail whips forward hard against her ass. Adora startles, turning to look back at Catra, and finds her _grinning_ at her, predatory and smug.

“I’ve wanted to do that since high school,” she says, totally satisfied and unapologetic. Adora feels herself flush and realizes for the first time that she is _totally fucked now_.

\--

Despite it being her idea, with every step in the process of going up to the main house, Adora makes it take longer, pinning Catra against the wall in the hallway, and then coaxing Catra into kissing her until _Adora_ is pinned against the refrigerator door. By the time they finish their breakfast, Adora is sprawled out on her back on the bench of the breakfast nook, Catra sitting on her hips and kissing her long and slow. This one Catra totally started, but she can’t help it. Adora kept _baiting_ her, and Catra has never backed down from a challenge in her life.

It does not help that Adora tastes like this, sounds like _that_ when she moans high and breathy. The feeling of Adora’s hands on her is addicting, sending sparks through her as they roam, making her fur stand on end and her leggings cling to her between her legs. Adora nips at her bottom lip and Catra realizes if she is going to stop herself from fucking Adora right here in front of the bay windows, she needs to stop them _now_.

She pulls back, panting, her tail whipping behind her as she takes in the sight of Adora disheveled beneath her, hair ruined from Catra’s hands in it and lips bitten. Adora has put up her ponytail three times today and Catra has had it down within seconds the next time they kissed every time. Adora is wearing leggings and a hoodie, but Catra unzipped the hoodie quickly, and all she has on beneath _that_ is a sports bra.

It leaves Catra a fantastic view of her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath, her muscles twitching and her abs just _there_ , even when she isn’t flexing them. For some reason that works Catra up all on its own and she finds herself bending to press kisses and bites along the planes of Adora’s stomach. Adora _cries out_ , back arching as she buries her hands in Catra’s hair, tugging her closer, begging for more without any real words.

Catra gives it to her _gladly_ , remembering the sight of Adora’s body beneath that thin white dress. She had thought then she looked naked in it, but it was nothing compared to touching and _tasting_ the real thing. She could keep going like this forever, dragging her tongue roughly against Adora’s twitching muscles and leaving open-mouthed, messy kisses in a trail down towards the v of her hips. She _would_ keep going if her phone did not ring out, loud in her pocket.

Catra growls in displeasure, sitting back and sending a glare down at Adora to warn her to _be quiet_. Catra growls _again_ when she sees who the contact is, despite how she already knew since only one person really calls her.

“Yes, Juliet?” Catra responds when she answers the phone, voice perfectly even. Below her, Adora freezes and then hastily sits up, blush blazing. Catra watches her glance out the windows around them like she expects Juliet to be secretly watching them like a voyeur.

“Checking in. You are late for your morning session,” Juliet tells her, direct and to the point. Catra rolls her eyes at Adora quickly zipping back up her hoodie as Catra slips from her lap to stand.

“Slept in. We just finished breakfast. We will be up to the house soon,” Catra assures her. Adora shoots her an annoyed look as she puts her hair back up for the _fourth_ time. Catra just grins in satisfaction.

“Okay. Angella wanted me to tell you that dinner is mandatory tonight,” Juliet tells her, and then promptly hangs up. Catra glares at the phone as she pulls it from her ear. Adora frowns, walking back to her from where she was pulling on her sneakers.

“You okay?” she asks, glancing between Catra and her phone like it will suddenly learn to talk to tell Adora what Juliet just said. Catra sighs, rolling her eyes as she makes her way to the front door.

“Dinner is mandatory tonight, apparently,” she tells her. Dinner has been an off-and-on thing, Adora almost always going on Sunday, and _usually_ on Saturday as well. They had skipped yesterday, both yet to recover from the absolute disasters they made of themselves in the store. The last thing Catra had wanted was to be around other people when she was still thinking of Adora in that skintight dress.

“It is something that is important to Angella. She was giving us time to catch up and space at first, but I think she considers you part of the family now, and that means coming to family dinner,” Adora tells her, but she sends her a sympathetic look as they head out the door. Catra does her best not to flush at that revelation, and manages to stamp her reaction down to flustered ear twitching.

When Adora finishes securing the door behind them, she nudges her hand against the back of Catra’s hopefully and looks at her with hopeful eyes. Catra scoffs, but she takes her hand as they walk up the drive. She does her best to stop her tail from lashing as Adora grins, bright and happy, over Catra just _holding her hand_. Then again, Catra is blushing and flustered, so maybe she gets it.

It may be simple, and small, but she wants to hold Adora’s hand, fingers laced together. Barring Adora dragging her along at the mall, they have not gotten to walk like this since middle school. Once Shadow caught them that had been it. Though neither of them understood _why_ , they knew it was dangerous to touch each other like this. Catra understands why Adora is reveling in it now. They reach the main house’s front door and Catra opens it for Adora. It does not really matter who gets there first, not when Adora is pulling her in by their linked hands.

When they reach the gym, they find both Bow and Juliet there, boxing each other with practiced form. Catra drops Adora’s hand hastily, before Juliet can throw Bow off-balance enough to turn around and look their way. Adora makes a small noise of disappointment, looking down at Catra’s now-empty hand and frowning. A moment later, Adora is stepping in front of her and facing her, placing both hands on Catra’s shoulder and bending down to look her in the eye. Catra feels herself flush.

“Catra, if you aren’t comfortable with people knowing, I need you to tell me now, because otherwise I’m going to shout that you are my girlfriend from the rooftops,” Adora tells her, serious and honest despite how she is being _ridiculous_. Catra scoffs.

“ _Don’t_ do that, but if I didn’t want people to know we’re together I would have told you to put on concealer first,” Catra points out. Adora pauses, blinking and looking down at if she can see her own neck – as if she did not spend _seven minutes_ admiring the marks the points of Catra’s fangs had left there in the bathroom that morning. Catra was looking too, but _still_.

“I would just rather _tell_ Juliet than have her _catch us_ , or whatever,” Catra explains, feeling her tail sway behind her in her uncertainty. She is also under explicit orders, but Adora is about to find that out anyway. Adora breathes an obvious sigh of relief, a smile beaming from her face as she drops her hands and takes a step back, nodding to Catra.

Catra forces her tail to still and motions for Adora to start walking again, the two of them approaching the sparring area. The boxing match is openly happening a few meters away as they set in on their stretches together. Bow loses, but it is only a casual practice match, and Catra doubts anyone was expecting him to win anyway. She clears her throat when he and Juliet break apart. Bow beams at her, immediately starting their way while Juliet approaches with measured steps. Catra waits until they have reached the edge of the mats to speak.

“The status has changed,” she says. It takes Bow a moment, but then his eyes are going wide and darting between her and Adora. Juliet actually does look mildly surprised, but her eyes land on Adora and zero in on her neck in no time. Adora, for her part, looks confused.

“What status?” she asks, turning to Catra. She does not seem suspicious, even though she probably _should_ be. Catra feels herself flush, not wanting to explain it, but also not wanting anyone _else_ to explain it and do it _wrong_ either.

“Ours,” she supplies, shrugging, doing her best to play it off. Juliet actually snorts from the edge of the mat.

“You can tell Angella at dinner,” she decides. Catra feels herself still, looking to Adora desperately. Adora, from her suppressed cringe, _also_ does not like the idea of telling her aunt in front of the entire family that she and Catra are _this_ now. Adora said girlfriend, and Catra will use it if she wants her to, but it also does not feel like _enough_.

Catra is getting ahead of herself. It has been a _day_ \- but it has also been their entire lifetime together, really.

Juliet does not give them much of a choice, turning and leaving them alone in the gym with Bow. Bow, for his part, has not recovered in the slightest from his personal shock, although he has found the marks on Adora’s neck and is blatantly staring now.

“You can do that, you know. Change your _status_ ,” Catra points out, because the idea seems to completely be breaking his brain. Bow blushes, looking away quickly.

“We’re not the same as you guys,” he points out, but he sounds uncertain of his own words. Catra rolls her eyes.

“No shit, neither of you wake up _screaming_ at night. Trust me, you have way less shit to deal with and we’re making it work,” Catra points out. She is a bit exasperated, but she also _likes_ Bow. She has gotten to know him pretty well over the last month of working together, and she finds it unendingly stupid that he will not just make a move. She knows why Glimmer won’t – she heard her lamenting to Adora about not wanting to _push_ him and make it awkward.

Technically, Glimmer and Adora are their bosses, even if they report to Juliet. In actuality, Catra does not _give a shit_. She is the one in charge of this relationship and everyone around them has known that since long before they kissed – even the _first_ time.

“We’re happy,” Bow returns, shrugging, like that is all there is. Like it does not matter if there could be _more_. Maybe, honestly, it does not matter to him – though Catra suspects it _does_ – but it matters to Catra, it matters to Adora, and she knows it matters to Glimmer, too.

Catra does not startle from surprise, but rather jolts from the contact when she feels Adora stepping close to her, grinning down at her as she wraps an arm around her waist. “It’s worth it, trust me,” Adora encourages, before leaning down to kiss Catra _right there_ , in front of _people_.

Catra still melts into the kiss, refusing to stand on her toes to force Adora to bend down to her level. She purrs as Adora’s other arm comes up to wrap her close against her chest, kissing slow and sweet – and _long_. When they pull apart, Bow is gone.

\--

Ordinarily, they go hiking on Sundays. _This_ Sunday, they do not have that much time left between the end of Adora’s defense lesson and dinner, so they end up on Adora’s couch, showered and changed, Catra wearing Adora’s old football shirt, and kissing slowly.

Catra has let Adora on top this time, but Adora can already tell that is going to be a fight. For now, she is mostly letting Catra have it, not wanting to crowd her in despite how badly she wants to touch her and take care of her. When they are just kissing it does not matter so much, Adora reasons. She will just have to see what happens when they start going _further_.

As desperately as she wants Catra, as she has _always_ wanted Catra, she does not want to rush this, and she does not want to rush _Catra_ , not with her history. She knows they are not going to go _slow_ , not from the way Catra gropes and squeezes along her back, but it has not even been twenty-four hours since their first _second_ kiss.

Catra gasps beneath her when her hand slips under the edge of her shirt, fingers carding through the thicker trail of fur down from her belly button. It has always looked so _soft_ when Adora saw it that she always wanted to touch it, and now she can she finds it just as soft as she always thought it would be. She hums with satisfaction into the kiss, splaying her hand out flat and enjoying the shift of Catra’s lean muscles beneath her. Catra is _strong_ , she just is not built like Adora is.

Apparently Catra is _done_ letting her direct things, positions be damned, because Adora finds her ponytail gone _again_ and Catra’s claws in her hair. Adora moans when Catra pulls on it harshly, yanking her head back to bite along the column of her throat. Adora already knows she is going to spend the next few weeks at least, if not the next few _years,_ wearing concealer during the week.

Adora still makes no motion to stop her, gasping and moaning as Catra makes her way down to the collar of Adora’s shirt. The feeling of Catra’s fangs against her has her arms shaking, threatening to give out despite Adora being more than strong enough for this. From the way Catra is smirking against her she suspects she _feels_ it.

“Look like it’s my turn, princess,” Catra purrs against her throat before Adora feels hands on her and finds herself flipped, blinking up at Catra in surprise. She _felt_ Catra touch her, but she has no idea how she ended up with her back pressed against the cushions, and Catra draped across her chest and settling between her legs.

“Teach me that one,” she requests, a little breathless. Catra _grins_ down at her, one hand threading into her hair to pull her head back to the angle she wants, demanding and _taking_ what she wants despite how Adora was already going to give it to her.

“Learn the _defence_ stuff first and then I’ll start teaching you tricks for bed,” Catra promises her, her other hand dropping to Adora’s ribcage. Adora feels herself swallow, Catra’s eyes narrowing in on her bruises bobbing with the motion. Catra licks her lips, predatory and hungry, and a small part of Adora’s mind reminds her that they have to stay presentable enough to go to dinner soon.

Another part of her reminds herself of that _first_ dinner and realizes Catra can definitely smell what she is doing to Adora. Adora feels herself flush, an involuntary whine spilling forth that has Catra’s ears pricking forward and a satisfied grin spreading across her face. Catra leans down, pulling on Adora’s hair slowly to angle her head even further without hurting her. Adora kind of wants her to yank it again, but she lets out a shaky breath and gives in to what Catra wants.

“Fuck, Adora, do you even hear yourself? Do you know what you _smell_ like right now?” Catra breathes into her ear, tightening her claws in her hair and eliciting another whine to prove her point. Adora gasps for air, feeling her thighs clench, knowing Catra knows just what she wants right now – how _badly_ she wants it.

“I can guess,” Adora manages to huff, trying to turn her head to the side to kiss Catra again, but Catra’s hand in her hair stops her with another gasp. “Catra, I want to kiss you,” Adora all but begs, doing her best to stay still like Catra clearly _wants,_ given the pin. Catra’s eyes flash dark, a satisfied purr spilling forth as she leans in to nuzzle against her cheek, but still does not meet her lips.

“Hm, only because you ask so sweetly for me,” Catra tells her before she tilts to finally seal their mouths together again. Adora kisses her eager and hungry, feeling _some_ semblance of control return as she licks into Catra’s mouth. As jealous as it had made Catra until she explained it, Adora is glad for her time with Mermista, if only so she has some clue what she is doing. She at least knows the basics of this, and Catra has been more than happy to meet her for _more_.

As much as Catra clearly wants to be dominant, as much as Adora _wants_ her to be, she can tell that Catra is as affected by this as she is. She might not have Catra senses, but she _knows_ Catra. She can feel the tell-tale tremble in her muscles, she recognizes when her words are a deflection, she knows that her tail’s irritated lashing extends to _this_ kind of worked-up as well.

Catra lets her steer the kiss, content apparently with having Adora fully pinned beneath her. She sighs happily against Adora, making her shiver and press in a bit eagerly. Adora has always been tripping over herself for Catra, though. Kissing her is an all-new kind of high she never wants to lose, setting her body alight in ways she has only ever tried to fight before.

She has only gotten off once since Catra moved in, knowing no matter when or where she did it Catra would _know_. She had settled for taking care of things while Catra was in the shower, worked up enough she was worried about giving into her impulse to reach for Catra if she held back much longer. She just hoped the steam and noise would cover it until at least _after_ the fact. Catra never said anything about it, though she stayed hidden in her room for the rest of the day, but that still is not unheard of for work evenings _now_.

She is not used to feeling these sensations and just letting them come, finding them _met_ by Catra’s hands on her, her tongue against hers, her claws tangling carefully in her hair. Adora is still holding herself back, limiting herself to how far they had gone last night, desperate and relieved to finally be touching each other, but even just letting herself feel this is new, much less acting on it. She also knows she _will_ be acting on it, likely soon if the hunger with which Catra kisses is any indication.

She is more than okay with that, _excited_ for that, maybe even a bit desperate for it – but for now this is where she wants to be, with Catra on steady ground for once, their feelings and experience overt between them.

Catra pulls back with a reluctant sigh that has Adora leaning forward to chase her. It makes Catra blush and her ears twitch, but she slinks down to drape against Adora’s chest.

“Despite how long I’ve been thinking of you naked, princess, we should slow down. Dinner is soon. I may be the only hybrid around here, but I don’t want to risk a _Juliet_ situation with your family,” Catra tells her, sounding thoroughly unhappy at being the voice of reason. She is _right_ though, so Adora moves to wrap her in her arms and cuddle her close, letting the heat die down until they are just holding each other, coming down from the high of sparks dancing across their skin.

“I kind of never want to stop touching you,” Adora says, like it is a _normal_ thing to say in conversation. It just slips out, but Catra trills against her shoulder, turning her head to mark along her collar bones.

“Tomorrow is Monday,” Catra reminds her. Adora curses, thinking about the _okay in public_ list and how little contact there actually is on it. Catra laughs at her, nuzzling in as she does so. “We are going to have to rewrite the lists, a bit, but we do still need to be _professional_ ,” Catra teases. Adora cannot deny the way she perks up at the mention of editing the lists, but when it makes Catra laugh she does not _want_ to.

“Most of those restrictions were so I wouldn’t let myself get too used to having you. I didn’t know what I would do once I lost all this,” Catra admits, her voice still a bit amused despite how her words make Adora’s heart clench.

“You aren’t losing this. And I would be happy throwing out the lists entirely,” Adora tells her. Catra’s breath stutters a bit at her words, but by the end she is huffing a laugh.

“We _need_ the public list. The private list… I never wanted in the first place,” Catra confesses, blushing from her spot on Adora’s chest. That could just be because she is currently using Adora’s tits as a pillow, but Adora knows Catra is a lot more comfortable with things that are _inappropriate_ than things that are _intimate_. 

“I can work with that. I still hate the public list, but I’m happy as long as I have you,” Adora promises her, bending down to press a kiss against the tip of her ear, the only part of her she can reach without some serious adjustment. She does not particularly want Catra to move from her current spot.

Catra flushes at her words, ears twitching and tail waving behind her. She turns to, effectively, bury her face in Adora’s tits to hide her reaction. Her tail immediately starts lashing, apparently realizing what she has done, but she makes no move to _leave_. Adora can’t help but laugh, stretching a hand down to Catra’s lower back, putting no pressure, but leaving the implication of touching the base of her tail there.

“Having fun down there?” she asks, far too smug. Catra’s ears prick forward and then _flatten_. She raises her head to glare at Adora, but she is thoroughly flushed, and her tail is whipping back and forth.

“You are an _asshole_ ,” she hisses to her. Adora grins back, sliding her hand up and away. Catra lets out a small noise of disappoint she clearly _tries_ to swallow and fails. She huffs, shuffling up to tuck her face into the safety of Adora’s neck instead. “If you touch me there again, we aren’t going to dinner,” she warns. She sounds in no way annoyed at the idea.

Adora sighs. Yeah, she wants to stay on this couch with Catra until the heat death of the universe, but she also does love her family and she wants them to meet her _girlfriend_. The fact that Catra had made no protests when she called her that is still making Adora a bit giddy. She has always wanted this with Catra, and despite how much time they have spent kissing today, it still sends a jolt through Adora every time that this is not just a fantasy, but real and in her arms.

“I should put concealer on for dinner, right?” Adora asks, not even fighting the disappointment in her own voice. Catra gives a low growl in response, but then she sighs.

“Yeah, you should,” she agrees. She sounds no less disappointed.

\--

“I can’t believe you were under orders to tell Juliet when I kissed you,” Adora says as they reach the main house. On the walk up the drive, Catra had finally explained the conversation Juliet had ambushed her with on Wednesday in detail. Catra rolls her eyes, tugging on their interlinked hands to throw Adora off balance and smirking when she nearly falls over, glaring at Catra as she straightens.

“I kissed _you_ if I recall,” Catra corrects her, showing a hint of fangs in her smirk. Adora flushes for a moment, but then she rallies.

“Only after I declared my undying love for you. Takes the risk out of it,” she counters, rolling her eyes. Catra feels herself flush, swallowing as she processes those words. To her side, Adora is smirking at her, but Catra is a bit too flustered to properly retaliate as they reach the front door, so she just clears her throat as she unlocks it for them. Adora frowns as she passes by her to enter the house.

“I want to open doors for you,” she protests, despite how they had this conversation halfway through Catra’s first real week. Catra rolls her eyes as she shuts the door behind her, but she lets Adora take her hand again as they start towards the dining hall.

“I know you’re a gentleman, Adora, you don’t have to prove it. It is a safety issue. I’m not letting you open doors for me unless we are inside your house,” Catra tells her. Adora pouts like an absolute child, but for some reason that makes sparks dance in Catra’s chest, so she quickly looks away. Adora wanting to open _doors_ for her shouldn’t be making her _blush_. She already knew she was a mess for Adora, but this is getting out of hand.

Adora halts just outside of the doors to the dining room, turning to her and squeezing Catra’s hand with both of hers. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? It is probably going to be a lot,” she asks, gaze searching as she looks Catra in the eye. Catra draws a careful breath, locking onto Adora’s eyes and grounding herself with the familiar gaze.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to be _prepared_ for this, but I’m ready,” Catra admits. Adora takes another second to search her, looking for an indication of anything more, but after a moment she nods and steps back to fall in at Catra’s side again. Adora tries to release her hand, which makes sense considering how Catra had dropped it when she spotted Juliet, but Catra continues to clutch her as a lifeline. “Please,” she requests, too ashamed of asking to look Adora in the eye, but at least she managed to make herself ask.

Adora’s breath catches beside her. “Of course. I’ve got you,” Adora assures. Catra nods, fixing her gaze forward and fighting the urge to pin her ears back or let her tail lash. After a moment more of waiting, Adora steps forward to open the doors.

Everybody else is already there, thankfully. Glimmer is chatting loudly and rapidly in Angella’s direction, though Bow seems to be caught in the crossfire of the conversation between them. None of the three of them even look up as Adora leads her to their seats. Juliet does not look directly, though she watches them in her periphery, smirking a little as she does so. Casta wears a similar expression, though she is less smug and far less subtle about it.

Adora lets go of her hand as they pull out their chairs and sit, but a moment later her hand is by Catra’s side, taking her tail under the table, squeezing reassuringly and staying there. It makes sense – Catra kind of needs her right hand to eat. Adora still provides her that contact, grounding her. Catra meets her by wrapping her tail up around her wrist, glad for some way to hold onto her.

When Glimmer’s story finally peters out, Adora makes eye contact with Angella and opens her mouth. Then she stops, seeming to freeze. After a moment, Glimmer notices and looks at her, smirking. Suddenly all eyes are on Adora, but she is not saying anything, sitting frozen and blushing a little.

“You have no idea what to say, do you?” Catra asks from beside her. Adora turns to her, a little relieved at being saved and a little pleading.

“I have no clue what I’m doing,” she openly admits. Juliet snorts from across the table. She tries to make it sound like a scoff, but Catra is pretty sure even the humans at the table can tell what it really was. As much as Catra does not want to be the one to do this, she does also like the idea of it being on her terms, and Adora clearly needs the help. She looks up to make eye contact with Angella, keeping her voice even as she speaks.

“Adora and I are together, now. And we have kind of been life partners since high school,” Catra admits. Adora flushes, but she breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes back in her seat. She does not protest the rest of Catra’s words. It is _true_ , even if they have not really discussed it aside from allusions about their future together. There was never room for anyone else in their lives, not as anything other than friends.

Angella is the only person who looks even mildly surprised. It makes sense – Juliet would have told Casta, and Bow would have told Glimmer. This is more of a formality, than anything else. Glimmer actually elbows Adora and sends her a teasing look. Angella’s gaze shifts between them, softening as she takes them in. Catra is still wearing Adora’s shirt, and Adora is beaming a little by her side. Catra is pretty sure she is still processing the _life partners_ thing.

“I am glad you found each other again. I am sure Adora already told you this, but you both have my blessing. You have made Adora happy in a way I was not certain she could be after everything she had gone through,” Angella replies, nodding sagely from the head of the table. Catra feels herself flush, quickly looking away despite none of it _really_ being new information.

Then Adora speaks from beside her. “I don’t think I could have been, without Catra,” Adora admits, conversationally, like it is a thing you just _say_. Catra feels herself flush worse, ears pinning back as she stares determinedly at her plate. Adora notices, wincing a little. “Sorry, private conversation, got it,” she amends, to Catra this time.

Catra steels herself and sighs, shaking her head. “I’m just not used to it. I trust them,” she admits, almost in a grumble. She hates admitting. She does not dare look at the other people at the table. Telling someone you trust them is almost as dangerous as the act itself. They know how deep that trust goes, and they can easily use it against you.

These people are Adora’s family. They aren’t going to hurt her. Over a month in, and she is still having to remind herself of that. Adora is looking down at her with that soft expression of shining love she sometimes gets, which is not helping Catra be _normal_ , but it is easing her nerves, at least.

Catra clears her throat and finally reaches for her fork. Adora takes the hint and backs off, the entire _table_ takes the hint and returns to normal conversation, but Adora does not stop looking at her like that for the rest of the evening.

\--

Dinner goes better than Adora could have hoped. Catra admits things to her family she has not said to _Adora_ yet. She is clearly overwhelmed by it, but Adora does her best to anchor her and steer conversation away from either of them. Luckily Glimmer is a chatterbox, and it is easy to set her off, even if she keeps trying to needle at them.

When they walk back to the house, it takes everything in Adora not to kiss Catra the second the door is closed, but she does not want to crowd her. She toes off her shoes while Catra disappears upstairs. Adora does her best to swallow her disappointment. She is trying to _ask_ now, she has been trying ever since that first night they slept together, but she also does not want to pressure her after everything that has happened today – and over the week, honestly.

She kicks around in the kitchen for a while, making a grocery list just to kill time, before she hears Catra’s claws clicking on the hardwood. She does her best not to spin around eagerly, but from Catra’s raised eyebrow she knows she fails miserably.

“Are you coming up or not?” Catra asks, voice indifferent but tail flicking with nerves that show she is anything _but_. She has ditched the pants she wore for dinner, down to the boy shorts she often wears when she crawls into Adora’s bed after a nightmare. She is still wearing Adora’s shirt. Despite being dressed for bed, it is not time for it yet.

Adora beams regardless, abandoning the list she didn’t need to be making anyway and following Catra up the stairs. Catra takes them to Adora’s room and crawls into her bed without hesitation. Adora is happy to slip in beside her, wrapping her girlfriend in her arms and holding her close. Catra sighs with obvious relief as Adora cradles her close.

“I needed this after dinner,” she murmurs against Adora’s shoulder. Adora squeezes her close, pressing kisses against the base of her ears that have her purring softly in her arms.

“Sorry. I was worried about crowding you,” Adora tells her, stroking through her hair and reveling in its softness now. When they were kids it was still soft, but it was always tangled and bit damaged from the shitty products available in the home. Catra has found new ones since, and her hair is – mostly – untangled and silky to the touch.

Catra scoffs against her shoulder. “Most of the times I ran from you crowding me were because I wanted to kiss you,” she dismisses. Adora makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, processing _that_ information. Catra snorts at the sound but she merely nuzzles closer.

In the face of that revelation, Adora has something she needs to ask. “I know all your stuff is in the other room, but this is _our_ bed now, right?” Adora asks. Catra growls, possessive, at _our_. Adora feels the warmth spreading in her chest, grinning to herself as she presses onward. “Our bed. Our room. Our house. Just like we always wanted,” she continues. Catra trills, high and flustered, pressing in close and burying her nose against Adora’s pulse point.

“Ours. _Mine_ ,” she agrees, nipping at Adora as she adds on the last part. Adora can’t help but gasp, _clutching_ at Catra now instead of just holding her.

“Yours. Always. Since _high school_ , right?” she agrees. She is smiling to herself again. She knows the dozens of throwaway, one-line sentences that Catra is talking about. Slipped into conversation by both of them, casually and without thinking, usually. On Adora’s part at least, they were usually followed by a half-second of panic before the other agreed. _When we have our own place_ and _we’ll always have each other_ and maybe most damning, _why would I be bothered with dating when we have everything we need already with just the two of us_?

Adora really had been an idiot, but she was so scared of losing Catra after that first kiss had caused her to run when _she_ was the one to initiate it. Adora was far too anxious to start something herself and drive her away again.

“Was that okay?” Catra asks, softly, breath puffing against her neck and tail sweeping uncertainly. “I- I always thought of it as _us_ even though we weren’t together,” she adds, admitting without Adora even _asking_. Despite how obvious it had been, Adora’s chest squeezes painfully at hearing Catra say it.

“So did I,” Adora returns. She bites her lip. Catra has done enough, _said_ enough today, but she also finally seems _willing_ and Adora has had a question burning for a decade now. “Catra, why weren’t we together?” she asks, softly. She hopes Catra knows what she is talking about. From the way her ears pin down, she knows she does.

“You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to. I’ve just been worried about scaring you off ever since,” she admits, voice quiet. She knows the words are obvious: that she needs to know what she did wrong then so she does not lose this _now_. She _feels_ Catra swallow, that is how close they are pressed together.

“When Lonnie started to wake up- I got scared. We were always at each other’s throats back then. I was sure she would tell Shadow and I knew Shadow would separate us. Give me to Hordak, or pull us apart, or beat me herself. It didn’t matter how she did it. I would rather have you how I was able to then than lose you entirely. I told myself I could wait until you were eighteen. I was too scared to even talk about it. I couldn’t lose you,” Catra admits, her voice a bit hoarse.

Adora releases a breath she has been holding for nine years. Shadow can’t take this from them, not now she is rotting in a prison cell. Adora has Catra and she is not letting anyone get in the way of that again. She slides a hand up, tangling it in Catra’s hair and tugging, making her intentions clear. Catra pulls herself back from her neck, stretching up to meet her in a long, slow kiss. The kiss Adora _wanted_ that night. The kiss she never knew if she would have, but still desperately hoped for.

“I love you,” she murmurs into the kiss, saying the words and tasting Catra’s lips at the same time. The hair on her arms is standing on end. “I always have,” she adds, because she needs Catra to know that as stupid as it would have been, she would have taken the risk that night and every night after if it meant she got to hold Catra like this. Catra shivers against her, pressing closer, kiss turning a bit desperate.

“Again,” she requests, breathless and needy. It makes Adora’s chest clench, her arms tighten, her heart feel like it is straining out of her chest. She does not break the kiss, but she presses forward, leaning Catra back and bracing above her until it is just them and the sheets around them.

“I love you. I’ve never loved anyone but you. I never could. I would marry you tomorrow, Catra. You are all there is for me. I love you so much,” Adora spills forward, a stream of _honesty_ against Catra’s mouth that has her whining softly and shaking. Catra is crying, but she is still kissing back, her hands tangled in Adora’s hair and holding her close.

“I- I love you too. I _want_ that too,” Catra manages to gasp against her, voice unsteady as she kisses her. Adora groans, shuddering against her. She _knew_ Catra loved her, she didn’t need her to say the words when she has told her so many other ways, but now she has it is affecting Adora, making her desperate to be closer despite how they _can’t_ , not with clothes on, and this conversation is too emotional to be followed by _more_.

“I _am_ going to marry you, one day. Probably not tomorrow. But I’m going to ask you, and now I know you’re going to say yes, and we’re going to have a stupid mushy wedding,” Adora tells her. Catra’s tears are fresh again. She kisses back weakly enough now that Adora pulls back from the kiss, but not from Catra, and Catra nudges weakly against her cheek as her breaths shake unsteadily.

“I think I’ve been planning our vows since I was eight,” Catra admits, humour in her voice despite how it is shaking. Adora shifts her braced position so she can slide a hand up, gently wiping Catra’s tears away as they form.

“Damn, I’m going to have to catch up,” Adora tells her. Catra huffs a laugh, weak but happy, purring now as she nuzzles into Adora’s hand.

“You were doing fine just now,” she counters, turning her head to kiss Adora’s palm. Adora kisses her forehead in response. She thinks Catra is too far gone for real kisses right now – at least too far for Adora to be comfortable with giving them – but she wants to keep assuring her, to keep promising her. She has had these feelings in her chest for a decade now, even if she didn’t know it back then. She has had these words on her tongue for six years, thinking the only person she would ever say them to was gone.

Catra’s purr is uneven and weak, but it does not stop, not as Adora carefully readjusts them to lay on their sides together again so she can relax with Catra in her arms. They breathe each other’s air, holding each other close in a bed big enough they could easily sleep beside each other without touching, but when Adora wakes the next morning, Catra is draped across her chest.

\--

They are in the elevator. It may be the private executive elevator, but it still is not the place for this kind of discussion. It is what Catra gets, she supposes, for not thinking to have this discussion in the car on the way to work. They had agreed yesterday to _edit_ the public list, but they had not really defined what that meant.

“But if we _can’t_ hide it, then why… hide it?” is Adora’s stunning argument. Catra feels the corner of her mouth twitch despite herself.

“I’m not saying we pretend we are not together. Your family knows, and I don’t give a shit who does beyond that. I don’t want to _hide_. It is called professionalism, Adora,” Catra points out. Adora glares at the elevator door.

“I know I have to be professional. But Glimmer and Bow touch each other. Glimmer and _I_ touch each other. There is such a thing as professional contact,” Adora points out. Catra stares at her, giving her a clear _you dumbass_ look. Adora, because she is an idiot, just smiles sheepishly. “Okay, it’s not _professional_ , but it is _allowable_. The COO is so much more important than me. If Glimmer can do it, I don’t see why we can’t,” Adora argues.

Unfortunately, Adora does have a _point_. Catra could point out that Glimmer and Bow are not actually together, not even _sleeping_ together like they had been, but she does not _actually_ want to discourage Adora, so she just sighs. “You can touch me, you just still should _try_ to be professional about it. Especially when _I_ have to work. You are _distracting_ ,” Catra tells her. Adora flushes as the elevator door opens.

She opens her mouth, but someone walks by and she quickly closes it. Catra waits, intending to follow her when she steps out, but instead Adora turns to the elevator panel and hits the button to close the doors. Catra feels her tail twitch in anticipation as the doors slide closed, leaving them alone.

The next thing she knows Adora is backing her against the wall. She does not even know she is _doing_ it, Catra is sure. She just turns and steps forward, bending to look her in the eye, and Catra is no longer leaning against the back wall but _pressed_ against it, staring up at Adora with wide eyes. Adora _was_ giving her a searching look, but when she notices Catra’s reaction, hungry amusement dances in her eyes, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips.

“Okay, I’m distracting,” she agrees, and then she is stepping forward and _actually_ pinning Catra to the wall, taking her chin in her hand to gently tip her head back. Adora gives her plenty of time to pull away, but Catra’s ears are pricked for someone approaching or the ding of the elevator being called away, and she picks up nothing.

She tilts her head up for the kiss gladly, despite how she _really_ shouldn’t. Adora kisses her slow and deliberate, a little _possessive_ as she pins Catra against the mirrored wall of the elevator, disability rail digging into her back. When she had just been leaning her shoulders against the wall, it had not been a problem, but then _Adora_ came along.

Adora is apparently intent on _claiming_ her before they spend a day together but still apart. She does not let her go until she has thoroughly explored Catra’s mouth, like she had not memorized its shape over the weekend. Catra is breathless when they finally part. Adora is breathing heavy as well, but she barely pulls back more than the few inches it takes to breathe something other than Catra’s air.

Catra tries to find words, tries to remind Adora they are not even in her _office_ yet, but she just pants uselessly against her, looking up at Adora’s smug satisfaction and blinking as her only response. She can feel her ears twitching uselessly at the sides of her head, and her fur is standing on end just a bit. She is the image of _unprofessional_ and she knows it.

Adora’s gaze softens, hand from her jaw sliding back to cup the back of her head. Her hair is up in her ponytail, exposing the nape of her neck for Adora to touch. “We do need to draw the lines of what exactly is okay, like we did before. As much as I enjoyed _that_ , I don’t want to make you uncomfortable – or your job any harder,” she says.

Catra gets the impression that is what she was _going_ to say before she noticed what she was doing and decided to pin her to the wall with her mouth instead. Catra takes a steadying breath, raising a hand to rest it on Adora’s chest, gentle pressure all Adora needs to take a step back. She watches Catra cautiously as she does so, but she does not outright panic like Catra worried she might. Then again, Catra is sure she is blushing. Her tail is still puffed out, at least.

“Kisses stay in your office. You can touch my hands, and arms, I guess. You never paid attention to not touching my shoulders and back, anyway,” Catra lists off. She is breathing normally again at least. Adora straightens, having bent down to look Catra in the eye and then kiss her. She nods, seriously, taking her mental notes, but she blushes when Catra mentions the touches. They had been _rare_ , but they were still present.

“You never said anything about them,” she says, looking at Catra a bit _hopefully_. Catra rolls her eyes.

“I would have stopped you if it bothered me, you know that, Adora. Same thing just now. But as much as I _want_ it, this is far from somewhere secure,” Catra points out. Adora nods gratefully, relaxing a bit before she cautiously holds out a hand to Catra. Catra feels her brows draw together, but she takes it.

Adora pulls her back to the elevator doors, hesitating before the panel and dropping her hand regretfully. Catra snorts to herself, but she knows her smile is fond even without looking at Adora’s beaming expression. Finally, Adora pushes the button to open the doors again.

They are so lucky they ended up late today, a little too wrapped up in each other to get out the door on-time. Everyone else with access to this elevator should be in their offices already. If the elevator had gotten called while they were doing _that_ , there is no way both of them could bury their panic fast enough for it to not look like they were doing something much worse.

There are already rumours in the company about the two of them. Catra has been hearing them for the last week – not that Adora has ever been _subtle_ about anything in her life, but she really kicked it into high gear once Catra’s new suits arrived. They do not need to add more fuel to the fire, even if they are together now. Catra is grateful for the collective twenty minutes they spent kissing this morning that led to them being late.

She is grateful for them, at least, until they actually step out of the elevator and catch Glimmer outright _grinning_ at them through the window into her waiting room. She has not even gone into her office, waiting for them to arrive. When she and Adora make eye contact, she raises an eyebrow, grin absolutely shit-eating.

Adora groans, grabbing Catra’s hand and leading her down the hallway towards her own office. “Ignore her for the next month at _least_ ,” Adora tells her. As Catra blinks down at her hand in Adora’s, aware suddenly she did give her permission to touch her hands, she realizes that is going to be easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adora is the CIO (Chief Investment Officer – an exact title that I lowkey made up but different companies have different titles for things, depending). She is in charge of all of their investments, which is the majority of Alliance's business, so kind of a big deal. She only actually works with a select few investees – mostly she is in charge of the department and her subordinates do the investing/investee relations/risk analysis.  
> Glimmer is the COO (Chief Operations Officer). She reports directly to the CEO and basically is in charge of the daily operations of the company as a whole.


	10. ACT I: The Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gala is all glamour and high society, but Catra knows a darker plot is present. She did not anticipate _how_ dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to have time to edit this today, but then my professor extended the research proposal deadline a day, so I'm back on my gay shit. POV for this one is Oops all Catra.  
> Also, as previously mentioned, members of the executive branch are banned from having relationships with anyone in the company, but Catra and Bow are privately employed by the Queens, not Alliance, so they can do what they want. What Bow wants is to quietly pine right now, but he'll get there.  
> Duane Reade's is a pharmacy/corner store on the east coast.

Adora has a remote meeting with Entrapta on Monday, going over the situation and getting her to promise to go into a partial lockdown for the next two weeks. It is a delicate balance, keeping herself out of public while still pretending she is going to the gala so arrangements will not be made for her _at home_ instead. Catra advises them as best as she can and convinces Scorpia easily to switch to twenty-four-hours for the next two weeks, but with that done Catra has _other_ concerns.

It takes until Wednesday afternoon for everyone in the company to know they are fucking, which Catra would honestly be fine with, _if they were fucking_. They kiss in Adora’s office _often_ , practically as a reward system for Adora getting her shit done, and the moment they get home they are in each other’s arms, but Adora has a stressful work week and Catra has a stressful _personal_ week thinking about the gala coming up.

They fall asleep every night curled together in their bed, kissing long and slow, but with the gala looming on the horizon it does not feel _right_ , despite how readily Catra feels along Adora’s body as they tangle together, how desperately she wants to have every part of her. Catra is on edge. She just needs to get the gala over with. A part of her has been convinced for every second that she is going to lose Adora all over again. Now Adora _knows_ and has accepted her as she is, the fear should be settled, but instead it wears a new face and makes her worry events at the gala will _take_ Adora from her. She is afraid, again, to have this and lose it.

She should have known with how frayed she was feeling that a nightmare was on the horizon. She has never had one sleeping in Adora’s bed before, but she also has never slept in Adora’s bed for this long in a row. It has been over a week since her last dream, nearly a two week record streak, but the possibility of making it there _shatters_ on Thursday night. Catra wakes up choking on her own blood, lungs empty – at least for several seconds. Eventually, she registers the way her lungs _aren’t_ empty, but gasping for air as she huddles pathetically in Adora’s arms. Adora is wrapped around her tight, whispering assurances into her ear and petting her soothingly as she promises her she is safe, she is loved, she is _out_.

Catra is crying, she realizes, but at least she is not screaming. She tries to reach up with shaking hands, but her arms are so tense it is a struggle to reach her neck, her fingers shaking so badly she struggles to push her hair aside when she reaches it. She can feel herself starting to hyperventilate. Adora’s hand envelopes hers, guiding it out from the tangles she was making in her mane and slipping it beneath her hair to find the back of her neck. Catra heaves a sigh of relief, breath slowing as she feels along the scars there with slowly steadying hands.

“You are here. You got out. You’re safe. I have you,” Adora promises in her ear, pressing a gentle kiss against the base of her ear. The best response Catra can manage as she traces the lines of her own claw marks is a soft whimper. She is breathing almost normally again, at least, and she is no longer shaking. She releases a slow breath and tilts herself towards Adora, hoping she will get the hint.

She does. She pulls Catra back, turning her over and rearranging her until they are facing each other, Catra tucked beneath her chin and Adora holding her, surrounding her, protecting her. Catra breathes in slowly, tucking her nose into Adora’s neck and breathing deeply as she clings to her back.

“I love you,” Adora adds to the promises, kissing the top of her head softly as she pulls the blankets tightly around them, surrounding them like the blanket forts they used to make as kids that always collapsed, leaving them with a convenient excuse to be wrapped up in each other that they didn’t understand why they wanted.

“I love you too,” Catra manages to croak against her throat. Adora’s arms just squeeze tighter in response. Catra’s tears have dried and her breathing has evened, but she still feels shaky. She is grateful for Adora holding her close, blankets wrapping them in soft comfort she _never_ would have had in the Horde. This is as far from the Horde as she can be – as safe as she ever will feel, ever will _be_.

Even if she has a nightmare every week for the rest of her life, she can deal with it if this is what greets her when she wakes up, if this kind of softness, love, and understanding is awaiting in her in the waking world. As she snuggles deeper into Adora's embrace, comforting scent surrounding her as much as the blankets do, she realizes she now has more than the _scars_ as proof that she lived through it all.

\--

They leave work early on Friday – all of them. Angella is not going to stay out without Juliet, and Glimmer is not going to work if both Angella and Adora are taking time off. When they get back to the estate, Juliet returns to the house she and Casta unofficially share up near the main house to change while Adora and Catra get ready.

Catra is done getting ready before Adora has finished styling her hair. Catra lounges on the bathroom counter in a black silk slip Adora _knows_ is hers while she watches Adora struggle to put her bun up with the hair fork Catra has given her. It is far from a hair accessory, actually intended for Adora to use as a weapon should the need arise, and Adora does not _really_ know how to use it in her hair – she barely knows how to use it in her fist. Eventually, Catra takes pity on her and slides down the counter, fixing Adora’s hair for her while she bends down to allow Catra to reach her more easily.

Adora turns back around, smiling at Catra hopefully. She just wants to _pass_ for done up. She refuses to wear makeup, even to events like this, hating the way it itches uncomfortably on her skin. She has concealer on the bruises on her neck and jaw, but Catra has already wrinkled her nose at the chemical smell of it when she tries to tuck into Adora’s neck while she is wearing it. She certainly is not going to put _more_ on for someone like Skell.

Catra nods her approval, blushing a little as she does so. Her ears are twitching. After a week together, Adora knows what that means. She grins, reaching for Catra and pulling her close by the waist until Catra is perched on the edge of the counter, Adora standing between her legs as her blush grows and her tail thuds heavily against the cabinets. Catra’s ears flatten at the sound, realizing she has given herself away, but she had done that already _anyway_.

Her blush is furious when she breaks with a low growl and hauls Adora forward by the front of her robe, kissing her hungrily. Adora hears Catra’s claws flex onto the marble countertop, but at least she does not hear them _gouge_. Adora meets her readily, grinning a bit _smugly_ when Catra pulls back for air, breathless after only a short time.

Catra glares at her, lashing her tail and blushing. “We need to put our dresses on,” she points out, a redirect to get Adora to pull back. Adora sends her a look that clearly communicates what she thinks of that idea, but she steps back and lets Catra off the counter so they can head into Adora’s closet where the two gowns have been hanging all week.

Adora pulls on her dress, but Catra helps her zip it. It is entirely unnecessary considering Adora put it on fine by herself in the store, and even though Catra is standing behind her she can tell her tail is lashing the _entire time_. Catra blatantly feels along Adora’s body as she does up the zipper, hands sliding along the fabric.

“I wanted to do this in the store. Especially when you were in that _second_ dress, practically naked,” Catra purrs in her ear, pressing in against her back, hands traveling up Adora’s front. Adora draws a shuddering breath, flushing at the feeling of Catra’s hands on her. Catra’s hands make their way to her chest, pinching a nipple even through the fabric. Adora openly moans, shaking just a little in her arms.

Catra had been rather _obvious_ in her feelings at the time, but hearing her thoughts is a whole different matter. When Catra pulls away, smirking and _victorious_ , Adora has to take several moments to recover. All her work is shot when Catra steps over to where her own gown is hanging and then turns her back to her, dropping the thin straps of the slip from her shoulders. Catra's dress falls to the floor, leaving her bare but for a pair of black seamless underwear. Adora hasn't seen this much of Catra since _high school_ , despite the shared bed, and she finds herself speechless.

Catra purrs as Adora draws in a sharp breath. “Well? Going to return the favour, princess? Just because we have bought the dress does not mean I am any more eager to put my claws through it now,” Catra says. Her slip is still pooled around her ankles. Her back may be to Adora, but her body is still very much on display. Catra's tail sways back and forth, slow and amused. Adora feels like she is lagging several paces behind, desperate to catch up to where Catra is, to just _be_ there.

Adora knows Catra is talking about helping her with the dress, but she slips up behind her without even glancing towards it, taking it as a _different_ kind of invitation. Adora's hand meet her, feeling and squeezing along her body in a way she has only ever really done over clothes. Catra gasps beneath her, body quivering a little, but she makes no protests despite how they _really_ need to finish getting ready. She arches into Adora’s touch as her hands slip up, massaging against Catra’s chest and reveling in the feeling of her bare skin beneath her.

Adora wants to sweep her hands _down_ , but they really have to go. She slides her hands to Catra’s waist, squeezing once, before she steps back and reaches for the hanging dress. Catra huffs in disappointment, but she lets Adora help her into the dress. Adora strokes along Catra’s tail unnecessarily as she slips it through the altered back, but Catra curls her tail around her in return, so she lets herself have it.

She zips up the back of the dress in the same slow way she had in the store, hand braced on Catra’s back, only when she is done _this_ time she wraps her arms around Catra’s waist and nuzzles against the side of her jaw from behind, kissing softly along the underside. Then, she had been practically dumbstruck at the sight of Catra in the dress. Now, she gets to _touch_.

“I seem to remember you saying you _like me in this_ , princess,” Catra brings up, smug as she lounges in Adora’s arms. Adora smiles to herself, straightening a little to whisper directly in Catra’s ear.

“I seem to remember wanting to fuck you on the lounge in the store when you were laying there in this, but now I think I preferred _before_ you put it on more,” Adora intones, letting her hands wander a little over Catra’s body through the fabric, the way she had wanted to then. Catra, for all her bravado, lets out a soft whine and lashes her tail against Adora’s leg.

They are saved – _blocked_ – from devolving further by Juliet’s coded knock on Adora’s front door.

\--

They have debriefed on this a half dozen times – they _rehashed_ in the limo on the way to the gala – but Catra is still on edge. She knows the procedures, but she worries about Adora in such a public place where she _knows_ there will be danger. She has a garrote hidden amongst her bracelets and she has her claws, but she still _worries_.

She is infinitely grateful for the distraction in the closet. She needed it, needed that moment of connection to assure her. If they make it through this night without Catra using up her building adrenaline, she does not know if she will be able to hold herself back from Adora. She had barely managed it knowing Juliet was _already there_. All week it _didn’t feel right_ , and now the gala is here it is the only thing she wants. Adrenaline talking, maybe, but she has _always_ wanted Adora. The only thing that ever held her back was fear.

“If your hands ever leave me for this party, I’m dumping you,” Catra tells Adora, smiling blandly as they exit the elevator from the parking garage into the sweeping vestibule. It might as well be a ballroom for how large and ornate it is. Adora quirks a brow, but the corner of her mouth is tilted up. Juliet is listening where she is following behind them, but despite all of Catra’s wandering thoughts, they are not her motivation. She does not want to risk losing Adora tonight.

“You’ll change your mind on that by the third conversation about investments. By the end of this you might be bored enough to be _excited_ by something going down,” Adora returns. Catra scoffs as Adora bows to a butler at the entrance to the _actual_ ballroom. Catra curtsies, practiced and polite, but she does not drop her hand from Adora’s arm, and she is molding herself over it again once they sweep inside.

“Princess, I have to sit through your meetings where you don’t even make investments, just listen to your little subordinates report on the investments _they_ made, all while having to subtly entertain your rebellious attention span without anyone noticing. I think I can handle some engineering firms that are hard up for cash,” Catra argues. Behind them, Juliet _almost_ snorts. If it were not for Catra’s hearing, she would miss it. Catra is pretty sure Juliet has everybody else fooled that she is professional, but Catra knows better – she is just _subtle_.

Whatever. Adora’s attention span is far from a _secret_. She and Glimmer were both privately tutored through high school – or the remainder of high school, in Adora’s case – because they had such trouble controlling it. Adora always managed okay in school before junior year, but it is not hard for Catra to pick up on the hints in conversation that she fell apart after Catra was taken.

“There is a special kind of simpering that comes out at galas. It’s… irritating. If I were not a Queens now, they would not give a shit about me, and it is obvious. At least at Alliance, it is not about me, or my family, but my _job_ ,” Adora responds, even as she throws a brilliant smile towards a group near the edge of the room where an older man has raised a champagne glass her way in acknowledgement. He is clearly trying to call them over, but Adora just keeps walking them towards the stairs up to the balcony level.

That actually sounds _hilarious_ to watch, but Catra bites her tongue. It clearly makes Adora uncomfortable. Catra is still getting used to Adora with _money_ – clearly Adora is, too. She does not know how to act when people treat her like the rich person she is, willingness to buy Alexander McQueen dresses aside.

“This is what you get for being an heiress. A mattress that costs more than some cars, and people begging for your money at public events,” Catra returns, hoping it will make Adora laugh, at least. When Adora had told her how much Angella had spent on her mattress, Catra had almost climbed out of the bed entirely. Her tail had fluffed up in shock and Adora had _laughed_. When Catra made her half-hearted attempt to leave, Adora tackled her and they devolved into making out on the house down payment passing for a mattress.

“I’m not an heiress. That’s Glimmer. I’m the… cousin, I guess,” Adora corrects, pausing to turn to look over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Catra tries to follow her sight line but just sees a lesbian couple walking away from them, wearing too much pink and blue. She raises a questioning brow at Adora. Adora rolls her eyes. “Blue is kind of Mermista’s _thing_. I thought that might be her, and if she is here she can direct us to her father,” Adora explains. Catra nods as they climb the stairs to the balcony level, but she has a correction.

“Adora, when Glimmer becomes CEO you are going to become the COO. That’s _inheriting_. You live on the family property. What, do you think Angella is going to leave you nothing? Did _Hope_ leave you nothing?” Catra points out. She immediately regrets it. She never brings up Hope, never brings up Mara – just like Adora never brings up her parents. Catra at least knows the grave plot where they are buried, even if she has never been.

Adora does not seem _bothered_ though, not in this context. She rolls her eyes, leading them towards the railing to look out over the ballroom. Catra gently resists before they can get _too_ close. She has pushed someone off a balcony before – it is not pretty. Adora draws them short a few feet from the railing.

“Hope and Mara did not have a will – not one that was found, anyway. They didn’t have much, and most of it was taken into evidence. And I’m not even going to _talk_ about something happening to Angella, I’m just saying if she ever retires Glimmer is the one who will head the family. That makes her the heiress,” Adora argues. Catra raises an eyebrow at her, more than happy to argue semantics if it distracts Adora from her slip-up.

Catra turns to look at Juliet. Juliet rolls her eyes, but she hops in. “You will inherit Glimmer’s position in the company and a portion of Angella’s holdings. You have already inherited the holdings that would have been Hope's before she was disowned. You are an heiress, Adora,” Juliet returns. Adora actually wrinkles her nose at that. It is almost like she is realizing she is rich for the first time. Well, silver spoon rich, anyway.

“Remember when I used to help you shoplift from Duane Reade’s?” Catra asks, because last five years notwithstanding, they had it _rough_ growing up. Catra has dealt with spoiled brats – dodged around them to get to targets, had them _as_ targets, and guarded them when they were the targets of someone else. Adora is far from entitled.

The smile crossing Adora’s face is almost wistful, even as Juliet coughs quietly behind them. Apparently, she was unaware of Adora’s criminal past. It was more than justified, just necessities that were missing in the home. Catra didn’t realize it was a _secret_ , but apparently Adora does not care that much.

“Remember when I got caught? You were distracting the counter clerk, but that PTA mom came wandering in. She felt so bad I was stealing flu medicine she bought it for us,” Adora returns. Catra scoffs, sending Adora one of her _you’re an idiot_ looks, but it is an affectionate one.

“She bought it for _you_. That’s why I was the distraction, remember? You could charm your way out of any conversation back then with your baby face,” she pauses, a slow smirk spreading on her face, “Actually, I’m pretty sure that is still how it works in your business meetings.” Adora throws her a glare, but she is blushing.

“I do not have a _baby face_. I have _scars_ on my nose, Catra,” Adora points out. It has been long enough they can joke about that, now. When Catra first gave them to her, she struggled to look her in the face for weeks. Now, Catra rolls her eyes. Adora is right, her jawline is _cut_ now, and the scars do help, but she also has an unending earnestness to her that lends itself to innocence.

“It’s alright, princess, it works for you. All innocence and muscles and obliviousness,” Catra promises her, only a bit condescending as she pats her bare arm, squeezing in a _feel_ as she does so.

“Hey!” Adora protests, throwing her a glare without any real heat. Catra flushes. That was a _compliment_. She usually finishes that thought with _fuck me against a wall_. She just shrugs in response, not dropping her subtle smirk. Behind them, Juliet gently sighs.

“Is this how you two flirt all the time?” Juliet asks, despite how unprofessional it is to address your client without being spoken too. Adora flushes _properly_ now, ears turning red, but Catra just turns to her and grins.

“Been this way since middle school. It is not changing any time soon,” Catra promises her. Adora’s flush is not retreating in the slightest, but lacking a retaliation she just starts walking them through the gala again, as if dragging them away from the physical location will leave the conversation behind. Catra is happy to drape from her arm as they both keep their eyes open for Skell, Mermista, or Mr. Salineas. They try to toss casual banter back and forth, but they keep getting interrupted.

Adora was not exaggerating. It took a few minutes, sure, but eventually people realize she is there, eventually people realize who she _is_ , and soon they come pouring in. Catra plays the part of the jealous girlfriend well, holding Adora back from handshakes with a possessive grip on her arm and pulling her away from conversations by _pretending_ to be the bored girlfriend in need of appeasement.

The act works well, giving her an excuse to have a wandering eye, as if to seek out things to entertain her rather than obviously sweeping their surroundings for danger. When Catra extracts Adora from the third conversation without any _point_ even, just general sucking up to the only member of the Queens present, Adora breathes a sigh of relief.

“I know you must hate this, but I’m bringing you as my date to _all_ of these from now on. You make it actually bearable and you _save_ me. I could kiss you right now,” she tells her as Catra leads her back near the entrance of the ballroom. As she speaks, Catra spots a woman in a blue sari, blue hair draped over her shoulder in a long braid. She looks bored for all the world and a few years older than Adora, but Catra recalls Adora’s comment about _blue_ and she bares a striking resemblance to the photos Catra has seen of Mr. Salineas.

“I think you are about to double down that sentiment,” she promises Adora, inclining her head in the woman’s direction. Adora’s eyes light up as she follows Catra’s gaze. Catra stamps down on the small spark of jealous that bursts in her chest. Mermista is their in to finding her father. That is _all_.

Maybe Adora senses her internal struggle. She takes her arm back from where Catra is draped over it and wraps it around Catra’s waist instead, pulling her close in against her and squeezing her hip. “Are you ready for this?” she asks Catra seriously, alternating between looking down at her and keeping an eye on Mermista.

Catra feels herself blush at the consideration, despite how finding the Salineases is the whole reason they are here. It does not matter if she is ready, this is what they are here to do. Still, she knows if she said _no_ Adora would not approach. They would likely tail Mermista through the entire gala just hoping she makes her way back to her father.

It is that knowledge that satisfies her. A purr almost starts in her chest, but she pushes it down, pressing in closer against Adora’s side. “I’m ready. I know you’re mine, princess,” Catra promises her. Adora flushes, but a beaming smile breaks across her face.

Behind them, Juliet quirks a brow. Catra is not explaining it to her.

\--

Adora pulls Catra close as they approach. Mermista spots them just before they reach her. The only reaction she gives is a slight widening of her eyes and raising an eyebrow at the way Adora is holding Catra close.

“Surprised to see you here, Grayskull,” Mermista greets, monotone. Against her side, Adora actually feels Catra relax at the greeting. Maybe it is the distance of using her last name, or maybe Catra is picking up on some signal that Adora can’t that really neither of them are interested. By Mermista’s side, her boyfriend beams at Adora.

“One of my clients was invited but couldn’t come. I would far rather be home on a Friday night,” Adora explains. Mermista rolls her eyes, groaning out loud to herself.

“I would rather be _anywhere but here_. Dad insisted I come, but all he has done all evening is talk business. I’m just waiting for Skell to appear so we can _go_ ,” Mermista returns. Catra smirks in amusement, her gaze darting to Adora and raising an eyebrow. Adora can read the look. _This is what you replaced me with_? Not that Adora was not making a very similar complaint a few minutes ago, but Mermista is so far from her type it is almost funny.

Adora’s _type_ has always been Catra. Mermista had almost no qualities in common with her, but that had almost been _part_ of it. Catra had only been gone three years. Adora was still waking up every other night crying for her. Adora looked herself in the mirror one morning, eyebags pronounced, and realized, without ever knowing she was in love before losing her, she had already lost the only person who could be important to her like that. No one was going to fill the space that Catra had _created_ in her heart.

And then she met Mermista, at a gala similar to this one. Mermista was bored and Adora was fleeing all the masses, totally unused to the demanding attention that she could only _disappoint_. Mermista and Sea Hawk had just broken up for the _third_ time and she had no one there to entertain her. They ended up chatting until Adora’s attempts to unravel Mermista’s on-again-off-again relationship turned to discussions of sexuality and Mermista admitted part of the reason for _this_ breakup had been that she wanted to explore hers.

She was also pissed at Sea Hawk for something, but that seemed coincidental. The offer had been overt and blatant as she eyed Adora. Adora is not even sure why she agreed, really. She felt broken inside. She knew all her possibility for romance died with Catra. She thought she would do this once, just to understand it when other people talked about it, and then she would go back to screaming herself awake every night.

It ended up being more than once. Mermista was experienced, despite being only a few years older, and each time they kissed she showed Adora something new. If the point of this was to understand what other people were talking about, it made sense to keep coming back. It did not make Adora feel any less broken – it had the weird, contradictory effect of making her body feel good and her heart feel _empty_ – but Mermista invited her back and she agreed.

On the third time, Mermista outright propositioned her for more. Adora had panicked, bolting from Mermista’s couch, her living room, her entire house. She knew this meant nothing more to Mermista than something fun to do while she got over her anger at Sea Hawk – she knew Mermista and Sea Hawk were already _talking_ again – but the kisses were already making her feel hollow enough. It did not matter that Catra was gone – she did not want to give this to anyone but her. She still _could_ be out there somewhere, after all.

When Adora woke up screaming that night – and every night for the next two weeks – Catra was not being taken from their bunk at Shadow’s, but from an imagined bed that was _theirs_ together, where they laid curled together, content in each other’s arms. Adora’s resulting depressive episode was bad enough Angella tried to get her to go back to therapy.

Even if she had not been all-in for Catra for as long as she has known how to love, Adora never would have been interested in Mermista. Catra seems to be realizing that now she is meeting her, relaxed against Adora’s side as Sea Hawk tries to point out to Mermista that the whole reason her dad _wanted_ her to come was so she could learn more about the business she was in line to inherit. Mermista sends a long-suffering stare into the distance.

“Adora, introduce me to your date,” Mermista cuts Sea Hawk off. She does not want to hear his argument – the truth, most likely – so she eyes Catra with a raised brow. Adora had never explained her situation to Mermista. She had not even told her _family_ , much less the daughter of a family acquaintance she met once at a party - but Adora had initially turned down Mermista’s offer by saying she was hung up on someone else.

Mermista had raised an eyebrow. “I just spent an hour ranting about my ex-boyfriend. Clearly I am too. I just want to try it out,” had been her response, the one Adora gave into. Now, Catra drapes against her side, everything she was yearning for then.

“Mermista, this is my girlfriend Catra. Catra, this is Mermista Salineas,” Adora introduces, all formality and _protocols_ because they have to. Mermista bows, Catra curtsying slightly in response. It is expected of her, but Adora still never would have thought she would see Catra _curtsey_ before tonight. Adora herself does not even do it, defaulting to bowing despite _ladies’ rules_.

“This is my fiancé, Sea Hawk,” Mermista returns, gesturing to Sea Hawk at her side. Adora blinks in surprise to her, about to _ask_ , before Catra beats her to another question.

“Is there anyone else you want to introduce?” she asks, polite, eyes curious. Adora feels her brows draw together, looking down at Catra, but Catra’s eyes just dart over Mermista before making eye contact with her again, ignoring Adora. It is an odd question, but it could be a lead to get Mermista to introduce them to her father.

Mermista’s response is odder, because a smile breaks across her face, cracking her bored expression in a way Adora has never seen. “Not yet. We are still picking out names, and we aren’t doing that gender reveal crap either,” Mermista responds, raising a hand to her stomach as it finally _clicks_ for Adora.

\--

Watching Adora realize Mermista is pregnant is _hilarious_. Her eyes go wide and she trips over herself to congratulate Mermista and her fiancé. Catra could tell as soon as they got close - even though Mermista is hardly showing, her scent signals and unusual stance were clear enough. Catra lets herself have her amusement, content in Adora’s reaction. She was worried about overstepping since Mermista had not said anything, but it is hardly something that could be hidden once it was this far along. Any hybrid with increased senses would be able to detect it.

Catra is oddly at ease talking to Mermista. Even without the fiancé and baby on the way, Catra can tell she is far from a _threat_. She and Adora would never work – she is shocked they worked long enough to even _kiss_ – despite how they seem to get on well enough as acquaintances. Adora wants, _needs_ someone who challenges her. Mermista could never give her the thrill of the chase that Catra does. Catra is content, draped against Adora’s side, as Mermista complains about the gala having no vegan options and not even being able to drink.

“I don’t think Skell is big on inclusivity,” Adora returns. Mermista rolls her eyes and scoffs.

“Tell me about it. He told me he liked my _sash_ when he greeted us before vanishing. Asshole. I see why Dad is getting out of business with him now,” Mermista returns. Adora wrinkles her nose, clearly trying to contain herself and failing.

“Where is Mercia, anyway?” Adora asks. It is the whole reason they are here, but Catra is not sure she is even thinking about that, just desperate for another conversation vine to swing to. There is only one kind of comment that statement deserves, but rules of society say not to badmouth the host. The rules don’t consider if the host is an _asshole_.

“I abandoned him over by the champagne when he got caught by some business relation. I did _not_ want to discuss international regulations for _anything_. I should probably be getting back, though. I’m too old to be getting a lecture,” Mermista explains, turning in the direction of the drinks set up.

“I haven’t seen him in at least two years. I would like to say hi before I have to go get swamped. I can only take so much desperation,” Adora adds. Mermista nods, inclining her head to indicate for them to follow before she sets off towards the drinks. Catra shifts to drape over Adora’s arm again as they walk, the arm around her waist a bit too restrictive for walking. Juliet silently trails behind them.

Mermista’s father is standing around a tall, standing table behind the drinks set up, largely blocked from view from the rest of the ballroom. It explains why they could not find him or Mermista. They had been avoiding the food and drink like the plague. Mercia is idly chatting with thin man in a tuxedo, no doubt the _business relation_ Mermista was referring to. Mr. Salineas spots them approaching, lighting up and waving to Mermista happily. The other man notices, excusing himself with a fond smile. A father himself, Catra would guess from his reaction. Mermista sighs at the obvious display of affection.

“Dad, you remember Adora. This is her girlfriend Catra. Catra, this is my dad Mercia. They wanted to say hi before Adora starts hosting court,” Mermista explains, gesturing vaguely towards the two of them. Mercia beams at them, reaching a hand out to shake with Adora despite how Catra is draped from her right arm. He notices, swapping hands to offer his left instead. Catra _has_ been holding Adora back from contact with strangers, but hopefully Mercia is not in on the plot _against_ him.

Catra feels a creeping sense of dread as Mercia steps around the small table to shake with Adora. He is sweating. Not profusely, not even more than what could be easily dismissed as being slightly overheated from his tux. Catra still almost pulls Adora back, manners be damned, as he reaches for her. Then he leans closer and Catra freezes when she catches how his pupils are blown out. The feeling of dread floods through her as Adora shakes his hand. Mermista is _fine_ , unbothered, but she also has not been eating or drinking anything.

Catra _knows_. She turns her head, sweeping the area and paying no attention as Adora and Mercia start talking. Her eyes catch a flash of green on the balcony level. Her heart stops. From across the ballroom, Rogelio’s eyes find hers at the same moment that she spots him. Catra swallows, but she does not hesitate to take a deliberate half-step, reangling her body to stand between Rogelio and Adora as they make burning eye contact.

Her entire body feels like it is on fire, suddenly tense, and behind her she hears Juliet draw in a sharp breath as she takes in the change in Catra and realizes there is danger nearby. If there is a secondary threat – and Catra _knows_ there is a secondary threat somewhere here, now – she has to trust Juliet will spot it as she stares Rogelio down.

Rogelio’s gaze flicks over her shoulder, finding Adora and eyes widening as he realizes _who_ Catra is hanging off the arm of. Catra can stand between them, but there is only so much she can do about the several inches Adora has on her. Rogelio’s eyes dart between them and then she watches his shoulders fall a bit. Across the room, he gives a small, firm shake of his head.

Despite everything, Catra believes him instantly. Three years in the Horde changed her a lot. Rogelio has an extra three on his previous four that will have changed him even more, but underneath that, _somewhere_ , he is still Rogelio. He would not lie to her, not about this. Adora is not a target. He was surprised to even _see_ her. Catra lets out a breath, finally breaking eye contact to turn to Adora with a too-sweet smile.

“Excuse me, Mercia, but I see an old friend I simply _must_ introduce Adora to,” Catra excuses them, her claws digging into Adora’s arm. Adora picked up on the tension in her, but she had continued to smile and nod politely to Mermista’s father, only so much she could do within social rules when a situation has not broken out yet. Now, she sends a worried look to Catra as she excuses them.

“We will have to talk again soon!” Mercia tells Adora. Adora agrees instantly. He has, at most, an hour left to live – at least if Rogelio is still using his old blend.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Catra tells him as she pulls Adora away, the words _ash_ in her mouth. She is suddenly grateful for veganism and lack of inclusivity. They are hardly out of earshot before Juliet is flanking Adora on her other side.

“Report,” she says, short and tense as she eyes the ballroom around them.

“Assassin on the balcony level. Green lizardfolk. Satin tuxedo. He is not here for Adora, but we need to get out of here. He works with a partner and I don’t see her. We go straight to the parking garage,” Catra tells her, turning to look back Rogelio’s way again. He is making his way down from the balcony now. Catra growls as she pulls them out to the vestibule.

She hears Adora’s breath stutter when it clicks for her, her head turning to look back into the ballroom despite how she follows Catra dutifully. “Don’t look, Adora,” Catra grinds out, yanking harshly on her arm as she pulls them into the stairwell down to the parking garage. No way is she trusting an elevator right now, not now she knows just who Skell is capable of contacting. Hordak would cut the cable just to prove a point. She knew Mercia was in danger, but she did not think Skell would really to stand to benefit from taking out anybody but Entrapta. Apparently revenge is motive enough for him.

“How do you know they are not here for Adora?” Juliet asks as she flanks behind them on the stairs. Catra pricks her ears, listening for anyone else approaching, for any sound indicating a trap as she walks in front of Adora down the stairs.

“He told me,” Catra responds as they reach the garage level. She freezes. There is someone on the other side of the door, or at least there was recently, the scent faded now. Catra still knows it. “Juliet, get Adora to the car. The partner is in the parking garage. They _aren’t_ here for Adora, but I’m not taking risks,” Catra says, opening the door before Juliet can protest.

She reaches back, gripping Adora’s wrist harshly as she pulls her out into the concrete cave. Lonnie is still here, but she is hidden from sight and not too close. Catra strains her ears, leading Adora towards where their limo is parked. She hears the scuffling of shoes several meters past it, coming from the other side of a support column.

She signals to Juliet without looking where the threat is. Juliet draws in a sharp breath as she follows her graze. Catra’s eyes are still fixed on the column, waiting for a woman or the barrel of a gun to appear from behind it. Neither happen as the beep of the car unlocking rings out throughout the parking garage. Catra yanks the car door handle open and gestures Adora inside, breathing easier as Adora ducks in. The limo is armoured – that is the whole reason they _took_ it – and as long as Adora keeps her head down she will be safe inside. Their driver is a female orc who is a trusted member of Juliet’s staff and has been waiting for them in the car the entire time. No one should have been able to tamper with it while escaping notice.

Juliet ducks into the car behind Adora, and Catra closes the door, cutting off Adora’s protests as they start. She takes a steadying breath and looks in through the tinted window. She and Adora make eye contact. Adora looks _panicked_ , Juliet holding her back from reaching for the door handle and opening it again. Adora stills when they make eye contact, a thread passing between them as she goes a bit limp against the seat.

Catra has to do this. She will be back. She tells Adora that without words, and Adora nods, still anxious but _accepting_. Catra takes a deep breath, making her way around the car and a few meters closer to the column, halting halfway between it and the car. Silence stretches for several moments as Catra tries to find something, _anything_ to say. Lonnie saves her by stepping out anyway, eyeing her as she leans against the side of the column.

“The target?” Catra settles on asking. She manages to keep her voice even. The corner of Lonnie’s mouth quirks up.

“Mercia and a no show, so far. Mermista was a bonus we aren’t taking. Not Adora. Didn’t know she was even important enough for someone to want to kill,” Lonnie tells her, tone just as even. Catra believes her.

They may have hated each other as kids, Catra may have been fiercely jealous of her friendship with Adora, but once they were in the Horde it was band together or fall. They saved each other in training exercises, they helped each other bandage wounds, they trained each other in the skills one of them picked up faster than the other two. For three years, it was her, Lonnie, and Rogelio. Lonnie would not lie to her about this.

It won’t endanger Entrapta to return the favour. “Entrapta is not coming. You can try again if Skell pays you for it, but I’m Adora’s bodyguard now, and she is Adora’s friend. That puts her under _my_ protection. I won’t make it easy for you,” Catra tells her. Lonnie narrows her eyes, but she gives a slight shake of her head. Skell is not paying for it – probably. He certainly doesn’t have the _money_ to without the Salineas contract.

Catra’s ears twitch as she hears the distant scrape of a claw on concrete. “Come out, Rogelio. You know I can hear you,” Catra calls. She hears him huff the hiss of air that is his laugh before he is stepping out from another stairwell near the back of the parking garage, striding over to stand by Lonnie’s side. Even after three years, they still fit together in an odd way. Balancing each other out as best they can. For a time, Catra was part of that weird balancing act. The thought occurs to Lonnie, too.

“You left us,” she says. She does not sound _angry_ – but she does not sound happy, either. She is trying for neutrality, trying to hide her feelings. She has gotten better at it these last few years. She was always brash, before. Then again, so was Catra. She still is, even if a part of her instincts always twinges at it now. Catra narrows her eyes at Lonnie.

“I left the Horde. You could have done what I did,” Catra returns. Lonnie outright laughs, mirthful and a bit hateful.

“You know you were the best assassin the Horde ever made, Catra. We could never get away with it. Besides, we’re _good_ at this. Been at it long enough we have risen the ranks,” Lonnie returns. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Catra is aware of Adora, and Juliet, and her _coworker_ all listening in on this conversation.

Rogelio turns to Lonnie, saying something Catra does not catch. She knows _some_ lizardfolk, most of it learned after being taken by the Horde, but the skill is rusty. Lonnie looks conflicted, looking up at Rogelio and then across the parking lot to Catra. After a moment, she sighs and uncrosses her arms, straightening up from the column.

“This is a curtesy for how you always had our backs, that’s it,” Lonnie tells her. Catra nods. _Any_ information she can get she will take. “Hordak is still pissed at Adora for shutting down his snatching ground. Whatever her status is now, it can only protect her for so long. Now she has gotten in the way again – now _you_ have and he knows where you are… Watch your backs, okay? I don’t want to see Adora hurt. She was the fucking best of us.”

Catra should be grateful for the warning. Instead, she is furious. Her tail lashes, an involuntary hiss releasing at Lonnie’s words. “All those fucking times we had each other’s backs, every time I saved either or _both_ of your asses, and you’re going to tell Hordak?” she snarls, gesturing violently with _claws_ as she speaks. Lonnie does not react – not appropriately, at least. She just raises an eyebrow.

“If we don’t, the client will once he realizes Adora stopped Entrapta from coming. Every time you _saved_ us will be pointless. Hordak will chip us both. You _know_ that, Catra,” Lonnie returns. Unbidden, the taste of iron blooms in her throat. Her tail and ears fall limp, her neck tingling with numbness. She sighs, not quite looking away – despite trusting their word, she does not dare – but still breaking eye contact.

“Yeah, I know,” she says, voice soft. She raises a hand to the back of her neck, hand falling on her scars if only to stop them from tingling. Once she _feels_ them beneath her hands, her body finally accepts that she is not bleeding out again and calms. Catra swallows, looking up again, gaze darting between Lonnie and Rogelio.

“I could take it out for you, you know. It would be a hell of a lot easier than doing my own,” Catra offers. Rogelio pauses, but Lonnie actually grimaces.

“Thanks, but I _saw_ what happened to you. Someone had to clean up the blood trail you left behind,” Lonnie says, shaking her head. Catra actually huffs a laugh at that. She had not really considered that when blood was dripping from her claws, staggering from the torture chamber as electricity crackled behind her from the now-useless chip, deadly voltage buzzing into the pool of blood instead of her head.

“I’m free. I’m alive. I would have rather been dead than stay there any longer,” Catra returns. She couldn’t take it. Killing was bad enough. This was a new horror she could not inflict. Lonnie’s gaze is distant as she gives a small shake of her head.

“I know. No one tries to tear out their own spinal column if they have something to lose,” Lonnie’s voice is surprisingly soft – for her at least. Catra scoffs, turning her face away, but keeping her eyes on the pair. Even though she just admitted it, she did not _tear out her spinal column_. The chip was implanted _close_ , but Catra had _gotten_ it.

Catra stiffens as she hears a car door open behind her, Adora’s scent in the air and her heartbeat in her ears. If Catra’s gaze was not so locked on Lonnie’s she would spin around towards her. “Adora, get back in the fucking car,” Catra grinds out, her tail lashing. Adora draws in a breath, still approaching.

“No. They aren’t going to hurt me,” Adora returns. Catra hisses, finally tearing her gaze away from Lonnie and desperately hoping that Juliet is on top of it as she turns towards Adora, stepping to stand between her and Lonnie. She glares up at her, but Adora looks down at her with an openly defiant gaze.

Adora needs someone who challenges her – and someone to challenge _back_. Catra growls at her, baring her fangs, but Adora just narrows her eyes and extends her hand. Catra recognizes the object in her palm – she sees it nearly every damn day. She growls again as she snatches it from Adora and turns back towards Lonnie and Rogelio.

Lonnie looks torn, staring at Adora. Rogelio looks openly sad, maybe even remorseful. Catra gets it. Adora is a window into a life they never had – into family, success in _normal_ terms rather than kill count, and no more scars than what Shadow had already given them.

She crosses the distance to Lonnie, extending the card out to her. Lonnie tears her gaze from Adora to eye it. Her mouth twists, but she snatches the business card from Catra, tucking it between the buttons of her tuxedo shirt to stow it in her bra. It is probably the only semi-safe option to keep it hidden.

Catra crosses back to Adora, still standing before her despite how deep down she knows Lonnie and Rogelio won’t hurt her. “Contact me anytime. Whenever, wherever you are, I’ll find you a surgeon to make a house call. Queens money can save your life before Hordak knows,” Adora says, despite how _she_ does not know, not really.

On Wednesday night, she had guided Catra’s shaking hand to her neck when she woke from her nightmare. She knows enough, between how Catra _needs_ to touch her scarring to feel safe and what was said in this conversation. Lonnie says nothing. Rogelio _does_ , but Lonnie does not react to it, so what it was is anyone’s guess.

Adora looks down at Catra sadly before turning back to the pair. “Rogelio? Kyle is an accountant in Jersey now. He’s in a support group. I haven’t spoken to him in two years, but I kept an eye out for him after you got taken,” Adora adds. Rogelio draws in a sharp hiss, Lonnie startling and placing a comforting hand on his arm.

The gesture comforts Catra, too. It shows they have kept their humanity with each other, at least. Rogelio looks down to the floor, releasing a few low utterances. Lonnie looks up from comforting him to make eye contact with Adora, sending her a grateful look. Adora just nods.

Lonnie’s mouth flattens in a line as Rogelio seems to finally recover. “We need to get back before the client realizes something is wrong,” she says, shooting Catra a look. Catra nods, but she has a question burning in the back of her mind. Lonnie said to look out – Lonnie said there could very well be a hit against them, soon.

“What if they send you on the hit?” she asks. Lonnie pauses, already half turned away from her.

“They wouldn’t take that risk,” Lonnie dismisses. Catra narrows her eyes at her. _Wrong_.

“Hordak _would_. To make you prove your loyalty,” she corrects. She knows she is right. Hordak is just in charge of coordinating and acquiring operatives as a whole, usually one of his higher-level operatives actually arranging hits, but if he desires to, he usurps them in the organization, despite every one of them being worse than him, crueler and deadlier. Catra should know – she almost became one.

Lonnie actually pauses at that. Rogelio says something by her side, voice low despite how no one can overhear him _anyway_. Lonnie fully turns away from them, and after a moment of glancing back, Rogelio does too. “We’re not hurting Adora,” Lonnie answers. She walks away before the words leave her mouth.

Catra watches them go, reaching a hand back to thread with Adora’s and squeeze, willing her silent until Lonnie and Rogelio disappear into the stairwell. The moment the door closes, she turns and drags Adora back towards the car. Catra shoves Adora inside, crawling over her lap and yanking the door shut behind her. Immediately, she hears the driver hit the locks. She makes eye contact with her in the rearview mirror.

“ _Drive_ ,” she intones. The limo pulls out of its parking spot before Adora can even scramble for her seatbelt.

\--

“What was that?” Juliet demands as soon as they are out of the parking garage, safe in the darkness of the night. It will not take too long to reach the estate from here. Catra is tense by her side, still gripping her hand. Adora glowers at Juliet.

“You heard it. You know,” she counters. Juliet narrows her eyes in response, gaze still fixed on Catra. Adora feels Catra’s eyes dart to her, burning, but she does not look away from challenging Juliet, even if Juliet is not acknowledging it. After _that_ , Catra does not need to go through an interrogation tonight. Adrenaline is still thrumming through Adora’s body. She needs to get Catra _alone_ , to hold her in her arms and know she is here. Juliet wants a _debrief_ despite the situation being obvious.

“They were both Horde?” Juliet asks, clearly directed at Catra in her gaze alone. Adora feels Catra draw in a breath, her fingers twitching beneath Adora’s. It is too much. She can’t do this, can’t leave _Catra_ to do this. She turns towards Catra, drawing her attention to her. They make eye contact. Adora knows how intense her gaze must be, sees it in the way Catra’s eyes grow wide and her ears twitch back. Her gaze is pleading, but Adora is _doing this_. She turns back to Juliet.

“ _They_ were our friends. Rogelio grew up with us. Hordak took him just like he took Catra and Lonnie,” Adora explains. Catra cuts in, not even looking at Juliet. She stares into Adora’s eyes as she talks, gaze burning.

“Rogelio and I were set to active duty at the same time. In the two years before I managed to cut out my kill switch, he completed nine hits for the Horde,” Catra says, her voice hard. She draws in a sharp breath before she finishes, staring into Adora’s eyes. “I did eleven,” she adds, voice small.

 _Eleven_. Adora clearly remembers the number _thirteen_. The discrepancy _should_ be worrying. She swallows hard, but she does not break eye contact with Catra, just squeezing her hand tighter.

 _I’m not scared of you_.

The look in Catra’s eyes is a clear _you should be_.

They are looking at nothing but each other, the heat between them building until Catra releases a small growl and turns away, breaking eye contact and turning bodily to look out the window. She has not let go of Adora’s hand. Adora watches the way her ears drop as she stares out into the night.

Juliet is silent for a long moment before she pulls out her phone. “Mercia?” she asks.

“Dead by now, or in the next twenty minutes. Rogelio’s blend does not have an antidote, and he was poisoned by the time we reached him,” Catra returns. Adora swallows, but Juliet just nods, raising her phone to her ear and calling Angella to relay the situation.

Catra’s tail flicks as Juliet speaks down the line, but she does not look back towards Adora. It is probably for the best. That heat was either building to an argument or something _more_. She would prefer to wait until they are alone.

\--

The limo pulls up to Adora’s house, Catra and Juliet carefully ushering Adora inside before Juliet fixes her with a look. “Keep her safe,” she tells her, turning to leave. Catra sucks in an unsteady breath, not expecting _trust_ after everything Juliet has learned tonight.

Adora stays at her shoulder for her entire security sweep, the tension from the car still _there_ as they make their way through the house. Adora doesn't let anything go - this seems to follow the same rule. When they reach the bedroom finally, Adora looks at her long and low as Catra locks the door. She is looking for some kind of approval. Catra rolls her eyes, but she leans back against the door and meets Adora’s gaze. It is all the permission Adora needs. Catra can see the heat sparking in her gaze as she presses forward, presses her against the door, kissing her roughly.

The adrenaline is still thrumming through Catra, too. The need to feel Adora alive and beneath her hands. The kiss is hot, demanding from the start, desperation and a love declaration all in one. Catra has bared so much of herself tonight and Adora _meets_ her, kisses her like she was worried for _Catra_. Adora’s hands are _claiming_ as they run over her, running along her back to find her zipper and pulling it down.

Catra breaks from the kiss with a gasp, but she does not stop Adora as the dress falls from her shoulders, as Adora pulls it down to crumple on the floor, no concern for the thousands of dollars that went into it. Her eyes are dark, intent as they focus in on Catra. It is a mirror to how they stood earlier that evening, Catra in just her underwear with a dress pooled around her. This time, Adora is facing her. This time, Adora’s hands grip her waist roughly as her gaze finds hers and drips with intent.

“You’re here. No one is taking you away from me again,” Adora says, to herself as much as to Catra. Catra fights the shiver that runs through her and _loses_ , feeling Adora’s grip flex against her. She whines softly, pressing closer.

She knows what this is. They have touched with plenty of _intent_ throughout the last week, throughout _today_ even, but the gala looming over them was holding them back. Now, they have made it. Now, they can feel the other beneath them and know they are _here_. Catra surges forward, making her agreement clear in how desperately she kisses Adora. Adora groans against her, pulling her away from the door and directing both of them to the bed.

Catra needs to have Adora, be _had_ by Adora. She needs _her_ Adora, needs the gentle care and strength and damn good intentions all wrapped up in the smugness of being a downright competitive _asshole_ when she sets her mind to it. Catra needs to challenge her to know Adora is still there, challenging her back. She needs to know that not only did she make it through all this, but that Adora did too. Her Adora.

Adora kisses her back just as desperately as she lifts her up onto the bed, as she absently reaches for her own zipper and pushes her dress aside before climbing in after Catra, meeting her again, hands roaming with _promise_ as they sink back into the sheets together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the smut is Finally coming.  
> Mercia was the name of Mermista’s dad in the original, so I stuck with it. Mercia collapsed in the ballroom right after the limo pulled out of the parking garage.  
> It's not rude in modern Etheria to mention a pregnancy in the way Catra did because, again, _everyone knows_. You can't pass it off to any hybrid, so it is just kind of an accepted thing.


	11. ACT I: The Bed (Reprise)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: The scene beginning with " _Promotion._ " contains mentions of violence, blood, and torture. I don't think it is too graphic as I cannot deal with very graphic depictions myself, but please skip/skim it if you are unsure, especially on the blood front. The violence and torture I tried to downplay while still conveying them. Also implied suicidal thoughts in a few lines.

Adora needs to _have_ her. She needs Catra beneath her – _just_ Catra. The girl she fell in love with. The asshole she argues semantics with. The untamed spirit and wild determination. The ghost that carved a shape in her heart and never let go, never let anyone else fit its unique shape. She needs to feel not just her body, but her _spark_.

From the way Catra kisses back, she feels the same. The kiss is desperate, but it is _deliberate_. An assurance, a promise as Adora lays Catra out, hands finally roaming freely with no concern for _too much_. Adora knows the shape of Catra’s body well at this point, but it is different to feel it over clothes as they are kissing lazily and to have it beneath her, bare and _shaking_ as Catra arches up into her touch.

Catra does not let Adora just lay her down. She quickly grabs Adora, flipping them until Catra is over her, thighs wrapping around her hips as she smirks down at her for a moment, that _spark_ obvious between them. They never turned the bedroom light on. There is still plenty of light to see by, spilling out from the open bathroom door where Catra left it on after her security sweep, but in the low light Catra’s eyes _shine_. Adora finds herself a bit breathless.

She reaches up, cupping her face gently. Some of the _fight_ leaks out of Catra as she leans into the touch, nuzzling against her hand. Her eyes soften, gazing down at Adora with just as much love as she knows must be in her own eyes. They do not need words – not now, and not for this. They know each other, _shaped_ each other, even if the years have changed their details since. The look they share is enough, _says_ enough, radiating love between them.

Adora’s hand slips behind Catra’s head to rest over the back of her scarred neck, fingers tracing for a moment, _reminding._ Catra’s eyes slip closed and she shudders as Adora traces the lines, grounding her in _this_ moment, in her arms. Catra is _here_ now. Catra is _hers_ now. The Horde won’t get to her again, Adora won’t _let_ them. When Catra’s eyes open again, they are burning with intensity.

Adora cannot help but smile as she cups the back of her neck, pulling Catra _down_ , meeting her with a hot and insistent kiss. Catra whines against her, hands _clutching_ her shoulders as she kisses back just as demandingly. They are desperate for each other, but they are always this way, even without adrenaline running through them and their clothes _on_.

Speaking of, Adora reaches her other hand up, needing to feel her now she _can_ , now all there is between them is their underwear. She runs her hand down her back, finding the base of her tail to rub through the silky fur there with insistent pressure. She has discovered Catra likes it scratched too, and that does not work her up quite as much, but right now _worked up_ is where they are heading.

Catra gasps into her mouth, panting as she lashes her tail and alternates between trying to arch her back _up_ into the touch and grind her hips down onto Adora for _relief_. Normally when she can’t control her hips anymore one of them pulls back, but tonight she wants to have Catra _writhing._ She drinks in the sight of Catra desperate above her, desperate _for_ her. No one else sees Catra _need_ this openly – it does not matter what Catra needs or wants, Adora is the only one who she trusts to do it before so blatantly.

Catra is panting too heavily to keep kissing her back now, pulling away with a half-lidded gaze and settling on flexing her hips down and _growling_ when Adora does not bring her hand down to meet her again. Adora was enjoying watching – and _feeling_ – Catra writhing above her, so she just smirks up at her and slides her hand up to the middle of her back. She quirks her brow, an obvious _what are you going to do about it?_ Catra is still straddled across her hips – there is _plenty_ she could do.

Catra is a brat. As annoying as it can be, it is also one of the things Adora loves about her. She expects Catra to retaliate, and she does, _grinding_ her hips onto her, making Adora _feel_ her. Adora gasps at the sensation, at the sight of Catra’s body rolling down against her, something she has only seen in her fantasies before. The underwear between them is a thin barrier to the rolling pressure.

Catra smirks, victorious, as she bends down to kiss and nip at Adora’s neck. Catra presses a sweet kiss against the side of her neck, hips still _going_ , and then latches onto her with a bite harsh enough for Adora to cry out, spasming beneath her. Catra stills instantly, jaw slackening, but after a moment she seems to detect it was not a _bad_ cry.

The way she immediately locks, stopping all movement as she assesses if she hurt her makes Adora’s breath catch. She does not expect any less, not from Catra, but it still makes the heat burning between her legs just a little _hotter_. Maybe the signal Catra picked up was the way Adora’s underwear is clinging to her right now. In any case, she properly releases Adora’s neck, causing her to let out a small sigh of disappointment, and then latches on _again_ , just as harsh.

Adora _writhes_ beneath her, arching up against Catra and finding the press of their bodies together electrifying when they are nearly naked like this. Catra stopped her grinding when she cried out, but now it is their entire bodies sliding together. Adora’s skin is thrumming with barely-constrained desire. She _needs_ to kiss Catra, to touch her properly. She threads her hands in Catra’s hair, tugging gently, hoping she will acquiesce. Catra growls warningly against her neck, causing Adora to shiver beneath her teeth, but she just tugs again _firmer_ this time. She _needs_ to kiss her.

Catra lets her neck go. Adora sighs, almost in relief. She loves the feeling of Catra’s teeth on her, she loves the marks she leaves behind as evidence of her love, but the rush of the feeling _leaving_ is also a reminder of how good the feeling itself is. Catra shifts up her body, meeting her for a heady kiss, Adora’s tongue licking forward along her fangs.

It makes her shiver, that deadly potentional against her, but _not_. Not deadly, not to Adora. Catra is fangs, and claws, and cutting words even – but Adora drops her hands to her shoulders and lets her hands sweep along her body, feeling the softness of her fur, the slope of her curves, one hand holding her hip in place as the other comes between them to massage at her chest like she had earlier in the night, when she had to _stop_.

If it were not for better things on the horizon, Adora would never stop touching her breasts, feeling Catra’s chest stiffening beneath her, drinking in the gentle _ahs_ she releases into her mouth as she arches into the touch. Catra may be the one with the sense of smell, but Adora can _feel_ that she is wet now where she is straddled across her hips.

The realization hits her heavy, and suddenly touching _elsewhere_ hits Adora’s top priority. She slides the hand on Catra’s chest up to her shoulder, flexes the one on her hip, and then bites at Catra’s bottom lip as a distraction so she can flip them. Catra could still easily stop her, but she lets Adora push her back into the sheets again, kneeling between her legs so she can touch her properly.

Adora kind of _needs_ Catra beneath her, to be over her, protecting her, even though she knows in this bed it is just them. Catra hisses into the kiss when she realizes Adora has taken advantage of the momentary distraction, but Adora can feel her smiling and she does not _stop_ , so she knows she is not going _too far_.

Her hands sweep up over her, as she pulls back from the kiss to just _look_. Catra is a goddamn work of art. Her eyes are dark, hazy with lust, but that _spark_ is still in them, watching her with dirty intent as she _lets_ Adora have her moment. Somehow, she communicates in her eyes alone that this is something she is _allowing_ Adora before she starts insisting on more. Adora takes it _gladly_.

Catra’s dark mane is haloed around her on the bed. Her hands, long fingers ending in _deadly_ points, are fisted tight in the sheets as she fights to get her breathing under control. Catra got lucky with her smaller chest, but Adora _loves_ it, loves finally being able to look without guilt at her visibly _eager_ chest as it rises and falls from how she fights for control of her breathing. Catra’s dark fur shifts with the panting, her muscles twitching. Her legs are _spread_.

They were wrapped around Adora before she flipped them, but now it makes it all-too-easy for Adora to drop her hand to Catra’s inner thigh, making eye contact again as she strokes a path _up_ in long motions. Heat flares in Catra’s gaze as Adora lets her other hand run down her body, finding her other thigh to push them just a little further apart. Catra’s breath stutters, licking her lips as she watches Adora, watches Adora’s hand work its way _closer_. Adora is not _patient_ , though, so she finally slides her hands up to Catra’s waistband. Catra releases a shuddering sigh of _relief_ that has her smirking to herself.

“I want to have you, Catra. Is that okay?” she asks, her voice low as her fingers curl beneath the edge of Catra’s underwear. She knows the answer, but she wants to hear Catra _say_ it, and she needs her to besides. Catra’s eyes flash, her thighs twitching _in_ just a little as they fight not to clench down, but Catra is nothing if not _difficult_.

“I would have stopped you at the _door_ , Adora,” Catra points out, raising a brow. It is a _yes_ , but it is not what Adora wants. Adora grins, partially because it _is_ a yes, but mostly to herself. She pulls Catra’s underwear down even as she leans forward, as if to kiss her. Catra kicks her underwear aside, surging up to meet her with lips and _teeth_.

Adora lets her plan get derailed for several moments by the thrill of Catra’s taste before she remembers she has something she is supposed to be _doing_. She drops one hand to Catra’s thigh again, the other running down her body until she is stroking through the thicker trail of soft fur leading between Catra’s legs. Catra shifts her hips instantly, trying to get Adora to _touch_ her, but that is far from the plan. Adora is going to have her – but she wants the _chase_ first. She wants Catra to give in.

“I’m not going to touch you until you say it,” Adora tells her, voice throaty and low, leaning in to press a kiss at the base of her ear as Catra stills, absorbing her words. Her ears pin _back_ as she whines, shifting beneath Adora, but Adora keeps her stroking gentle, purposeful, and _above_ where Catra wants it. “Say you’re mine, my love,” Adora tells her in a chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead now.

The noise Catra releases is _new_. A mewl, needy but _happy_ , desperate but whole. Catra shakes beneath her, so Adora just continues softly stroking, gently kissing along her face as Catra struggles for words. It occurs to Adora that, despite having told her she loves her multiple times, she has never outright _called_ Catra her love.

Adora is grinning to herself as she kisses along Catra’s jaw now, the effort of keeping her hands from stroking too close almost too much. She is _not patient_ , but she is also discovering a new side to Catra, new _noises_ from Catra, and that is its own reward. She knows _words_ are hard for Catra, though, and she is more than happy to meet her halfway.

“I’m yours, my love. I know you are mine. Tell me what you want,” she promises her, _promises_ because anything Catra asks, she will give. Catra gasps, mewls again, bucks against her, _swears_ – until finally she cannot take Adora’s soft kisses and purposeful stroking any longer.

“Touch me. Fuck me. Have me. Adora, I _need_ you,” Catra breaks like _glass_ , shattering apart for her and trusting she will hold her pieces, put them back together how she was before, _happier_ than she was before. Adora’s self-restraint is _gone_. She needed the consent. She needed the challenge. She needed to hear it. She _has_ it now – all she wants is Catra.

Adora’s hand is dragging down, making Catra gasp as she finally touches her. Catra bucks her hips into Adora’s touch when she merely _brushes_ her. Adora has to hold in her own gasp at seeing Catra like this, seeing her arch into her touch with the intent of chasing pleasure. It is all Adora wants to give to her. She slides her fingers over her, exploring and stroking between her folds as Catra shakes even without contact where she needs it.

Neither of them are _patient_ , but aside from light twitches Catra holds still as Adora becomes acquainted with the feel of her, her fingers sliding with no resistance as she sweeps down to her entrance, stroking carefully and making her _whine_. Catra is soaked for her, and Adora _knew_ it, but feeling it is another matter. Catra makes heated eye contact with her and then insistently rolls her hips down. Adora slides her hand up, not quite giving her what she wants, but sliding back up to her clit at least. Catra releases a shaking sigh of relief, sinking back into the sheets and arching into the touch.

“Tell me how you like it. How to make you feel good,” Adora requests, voice rough with her desire as she slides up the hand still on her thigh, stroking along her entrance with it, mirroring the motion she is using against her clit. She does not really have the dexterity to be using two different techniques, but maybe she can _learn._ Catra whines, rolling down onto her. Adora’s fingers _almost_ slip in, but she pulls back enough to keep her on edge.

“Hard. Steady. Like _you_. I need the pressure,” Catra gasps out, eyes heated as she holds Adora’s gaze. Adora feels her breath catch, her thighs clench. She can’t _not_ give Catra what she wants now, rubbing against her entrance with purpose, with _intent_. “ _Fuck_ ,” Catra gasps out, flexing her hips down again. Her voice drips with _need_ and it fills Adora with the same feeling.

Catra reaches for her, a hand on her shoulder, clutching and tugging insistently. “Come up. I need to feel you against me while you fuck me,” Catra tells her, voice shaking, but it is all desire, not a trace of shame present. Adora moans at the words, following immediately. She shifts, throwing one leg over Catra’s thigh so she can straddle her leg and shift further up than her spot between her knees allowed. She hesitates, pulling a hand away from her to brace herself above Catra.

Catra actually hisses at the lack of contact. She raises her arms, wrapping them around Adora’s back and yanking her _down_ until their bodies are molded together, kissing her roughly when they meet again. Adora moans into the kiss, unable to stop her hips from rolling forward against Catra’s thigh. Catra purrs into the kiss at the response, licking into her mouth as her tail wraps around Adora’s wrist, guiding her _down_ , pressing her hand firmly against her.

“Don’t hold back, Adora. I want all of you. You aren’t going to crush me. Just _fuck me_ ,” Catra orders before diving in for another kiss, _biting_ her lip as she does so. Adora moans against her, pressing close, draping over her as _finally_ , she lines a finger up against her entrance and presses in. “ _Yes_ ,” Catra breathes into the kiss, hips already rolling.

Catra is _open_ for her, offering no resistance. Adora pulls back, pressing in again with two fingers this time. Catra whines as Adora starts to properly rock her fingers, properly thrust, properly _fuck her_. Catra tosses her head back, openly moaning and gasping with every motion. “Adora,” she breathes, voice _grateful_. It makes Adora pick up the pace, the pressure, thinking about _hard_ , about _all of her_. She keeps careful control of her arm, plunging in and out with a _steady_ pace as Catra gasps, moans, whines.

“I love you,” Adora promises her, watching her with reverent eyes as Catra’s eyes squeeze shut and she shudders beneath her, pleasure contorting her expression. Catra is gorgeous, writhing onto her fingers, desperate as Adora drapes over her, surrounds her, feels all her needy motions against every inch of her. There is nothing in her mind but Catra beneath her and she knows it is the same for her as Catra _cries_ out on the next thrust. Adora swallows, shifting her angle a little, trying to recreate that reaction. It takes her a moment, but then she crooks her fingers, presses _up_ , and Catra is writhing, swearing, _crying_.

Not just crying out, but actual tears pricking at her eyes. “ _Adora_ ,” she manages, desperate as she rolls her hips down, voice begging for relief. Adora feels like she has to be crushing her, but she needs to _give_ her that relief, to finally help her fall apart after thinking about this for years. She amps up the pace, as hard as she dares without being too rough, without being erratic and unsteady. Catra’s claws dig in to her back as she cries out, whimpering a little with every breath. It should hurt, but she does not break skin and it just feels _good_ , searing points of pleasure as Catra loses herself.

“I’ve got you, my love,” Adora murmurs, pressing kisses against her jaw. Catra whines weakly, sound turning to an open moan on the next thrust. “What do you need? I want to make you come,” Adora asks, breathless, dazed by the sight of Catra like this. Catra’s leg is still between her thighs, making her thoughts unsteady as she drinks in the sight of Catra writhing beneath her, as she _feels_ it when Catra jerks her legs with her desperate movements.

Catra whines in response to the question, rolling her hips insistently down and then whining _again_ when it is not enough. “Your hand,” she gasps out, shifting restlessly beneath her. “Don’t stop, I just need stimulation. I’m _close_ ,” Catra promises her. Adora drinks in that promise _readily_ , feeling her own thighs clench in response. She swallows, shifting herself to the side a little so she doesn’t _suffocate_ Catra as she lays out and brings her other hand down to rub against her clit.

Catra cries out, despite how clumsy Adora’s movements are before she settles for tensing her fingers and rocking them up and down against her clit, a motion she can do in time with her thrusts without too much difficulty. Catra’s walls tense around her at the contact, her whole body twitching as she moans and cries out. Adora watches her orgasm rush up on her, gripping her body and making her muscles clench down. Catra cries out Adora’s name as she comes, a sound that imprints on Adora’s _heart_ , makes her breath catch and her own hips roll.

She watches Catra tense, and shake, and fall apart before she falls _back_ , limp against the sheets as a heavy purr rolls forward and peace floods through her.

\--

Catra never stops clutching Adora’s back, even if her grip turns weak and loose after Adora pushes her over the edge. Adora strokes her through it, only pulling out once her purr begins to rumble through the room. She is _loud_ , but she doesn’t give a shit, not with this feeling of love, of safety, of pure pleasure and satisfaction pouring through her.

Despite her grip turning limp, Adora makes no move to pull back, raising her own arms to wrap around Catra again and hold _her_ close now, pressing soft kisses against her jaw as Catra pants and comes back to herself. Her purr is not stopping, and even if it usually takes a few minutes, she already knows it is going to be _longer_ this time.

“I love you. You are so fucking gorgeous,” Adora tells her, voice soft but dripping with desire. _Adora_ is dripping against her thigh, even through her underwear. The pleasure she got just from getting Catra off makes her shudder in her arms. Adora’s scent fills the room as much as Catra’s does, and she still has _some_ clothes on. Catra just lets out a contented noise, nudging into Adora’s kisses, her gentle love after her _intense_ sex. It was exactly what Catra expected, wanted, _needed_. It was a bit clumsy, but she does not care. They will get there, she got _there_ , and once she can breathe again she is going to take Adora there too.

“I love you,” she sighs back, voice _satiated_ and happy. She is not used to hearing her own voice sound like that. Clearly, neither is Adora. She shivers against her, pressing in closer and kisses turning a bit fevered against her neck. Catra tilts her chin back, giving her easy access. She knows how deadly this access is, how she is _submitting_ to Adora, but she does not care. Adora meets her with hot kisses and lightly-grazing teeth that make her quiver as an aftershock rolls through her.

Adora’s arms around her are strong, but she offers no resistance as Catra nudges her shoulder, guiding her until she is laying on her back. Sometimes when they make out it is closer to _wrestling_ , but now is not the time for grapples and flipping positions. Catra finally lets go of her clinging grip on Adora’s back, feeling a bit guilty about the scratches she _knows_ are there, but she managed to control her claws even as Adora took her apart and she knows she did not draw blood.

She is finally breathing normally again. She crawls over Adora, draping over her body and sighing with content at feeling Adora against her again, even if the gap between them was only brief. She has hormones running wild after her orgasm, or something. She does not care about the blatant neediness right now and Adora does not call her on it as she tilts her head down, catching her in a proper kiss now.

Adora meets her gladly, happily, _hungrily._ Her hands are on Catra’s hips again, tracing the shape of Catra’s body as she kisses her with love and _want_. Her breaths are shaking just a bit, her chest rising to _press_ against Catra just a little too fast. Catra could tease her, but Adora is halfway there already.

Catra shifts, rolling her lower half off of her to have _access_ as she lets her own hands roam. Adora hums into the kiss happily, shifting beneath Catra’s touch as she traces up to knead at her _gorgeous_ tits, down to feel the planes of her stomach, even _further_ down to squeeze at the hard muscle in her thighs. Adora whines just a little, muscles lightly shaking beneath her touch. Catra slides her hand to Adora’s waistband and shows it no concern, claws flicking out and slicing through her underwear. Pulling it down would require them to part for a moment, and that is _unacceptable_. Adora gasps, startled and _aroused_ as Catra tosses the tatters aside.

Adora is, in most ways, the boss. She decides, she dictates, she _leads_ all day long and she never lets anyone else make a hard decision when she could be the one to do it. It is not about power or control – it is about _burden_. Adora is such a good leader because she does not want anyone else to shoulder her responsibilities, to find her incapable, a _disappointment_.

Beneath Catra’s touch, as she sweeps it _down_ between her legs, Adora _submits_ , gives up all control, lets out sighs contented with what Catra chooses to give her. She kisses her happily, insistently, and Catra _knows_ Adora would ask her to come back if she broke the kiss, but it would be a _request_. She lets Catra have her way, lets her massage her fingers over the length of her without even asking for more before Catra has her fill and returns to her clit with purposeful motions, making Adora gasp and twitch.

Catra is pretty sure Adora has only gotten off _once_ since she moved in, which might explain why she usually passes out from stress twice a month. When she did it, Catra did not hear most of the tell-tale sounds of sex, just Adora’s gentle sighs and her _scent_. She thinks this stimulation is enough for her, given _before_ and the way her muscles shake now. Catra _is_ going to have her, to fuck her and make Adora _hers_ , but not tonight. As much as her usual urges are _dominant_ , right now she just wants Adora to feel good.

Catra wants to pull back, to watch her as she moans into every kiss now, but Adora never _stops_ kissing her, so Catra does not pull back, even as Adora begins to desperately gasp beneath her. It is hardly a kiss now, but the _connection_ is there, the intimacy, and she thinks that is what Adora wants. She should know herself better than this, but until Adora was giving it to her, she would have denied that it was what she wanted, too. What she _needed_ to trust she was safe after everything tonight and give up control like that.

Being fucked into the mattress helps, too, but the gentle kisses, quiet words, _my love_ had done plenty for her on their own. She ups the pressure she is using, gets a suppressed hiss of pain, and pulls back, upping the speed of her _movement_ instead. Adora openly moans, shifting down into her hand, and Catra can’t help but smirk against her at having figured her out.

“Such pretty sounds for me,” she murmurs against her. Adora gasps out a _desperate_ sound at that, hips twitching again. Catra could have guessed, knew before the first _I’m yours_ how much Adora enjoys _being_ that, but her smirk of victory only grows. “My beautiful girl, _drenched_ for me. Is this what fucking me did for you, Adora? How much you enjoyed yourself? You smell _intoxicating_ right now,” Catra tells her, dirty words spilling forth readily.

It is all Adora needs. She is _dripping_ with desperation, muscles twitching, locking, and then _rolling_. Catra can feel it with her hand still working against her clit. Adora moans, high-pitched but sound _restrained_ as she tries to hold it down, limbs quivering until she is falling back against the sheets. Catra drinks in the sounds she _does_ give her, determined to coax the rest out of her later. Adora had been so _silent_ when she did this on her own, she knows it must be a long-engrained habit. She is all-too happy to put in the work to _break_ it.

She pulls back now to _look_. Adora’s eyes flutter, but when she realizes Catra is only moving a few inches, still curled around her, she relaxes again, her eyes closed as she pants. Sweat sheens across her skin, flyaway hairs clinging to the edges of her face. She is flushed, _wrecked_ , satiated, a small smile of content at the corner of her mouth.

“I love you,” she breathes when she has the air to. Catra smiles to herself, leaning in to nudge into her neck and wrap herself around Adora fully again, basking in the contact, the endorphins, the pheromones, the _intimacy_.

“I love you too,” she returns, pressing a gentle kiss against the _dark_ bitemark she had left earlier. She had not meant to be that harsh, her training for careful control of her body not really extending to her mouth aside from keeping it _shut_. She had _needed_ to feel Adora’s pulse beneath her fangs, biting exactly as hard as she wanted to and far harder than she _usually_ did.

She had been worried about hurting Adora, maybe even _scaring_ her. It would be more than earned if Catra lost control and hurt her. Instead, a flood of desire had hit the air. She keeps expecting to fuck this up, but every time Adora just _meets_ her. Accepts her, or lets her, or even _begs_ her for it.

 _My love_ , she said. Catra swallows thickly, tries to push down her stupid emotional side, and fails. The hormones are still running through her. “Can you say it again? What you did earlier,” she requests, voice soft. Adora pauses beneath her. It is not _reluctant_ , Catra knows Adora too well to make that confusion. She can already picture Adora’s brows drawing together above her in confusion. Catra scowls against her neck, not wanting to _admit it_ , but she already has dug herself in this deep. “What you called me,” she clarifies in a whisper.

Adora raises a gentle hand to her jaw, applying soft pressure there to encourage Catra to raise her head. A few times in the last week of their loving touches Catra has resisted, usually to be petulant, but not now. She lifts her head, lets herself be guided up to make eye contact with Adora again. Adora is watching her with an open expression of shining love as her hand shifts to cup her cheek.

“My love. My _lover_. And I am yours. Always, my love,” Adora murmurs. Catra has to fight to maintain eye contact, to not let her eyes fall closed as she shudders, her purr rolling _loud_. Not that it has stopped yet, but Adora breathes new life into it. She smiles up at her, shining and _happy_ at Catra’s reaction. “Do you want to be that instead? Lovers? I think we passed girlfriends before we kissed, anyway,” Adora asks, voice with a teasing lilt, but genuine curiosity contained within it.

Catra gasps out, shuddering a little against Adora’s hand on her cheek as her eyes _actually_ fall closed this time. “Lovers. Your love. Partners,” Catra agrees, voice low, like she is afraid Adora will disagree. For once, she _isn’t_ , it is just a long-engrained habit. She _knows_ now, knows Adora knows of the very worst of her and still touches her with gentle softness.

She feels Adora shift forward, not opening her eyes as she meets her in a long, slow kiss. Catra lets herself relax against her, kissing her _again_ when the first one finishes. They should sleep, they _could_ talk – but Catra would rather they do _this_ , laying in each other’s arms as they hold each other close, their heartrates coming down, the adrenaline finally faded and _assured_ in the other’s presence, the other’s love.

Eventually, the late hour – the _early hour_ now, actually – catches up to them, and they pull apart with soft sighs, continuing to hold each other as they drift off together.

\--

“I _really_ shouldn’t have slept naked. I mean, I’ve fought naked before, but I don’t want to have to _again_ ,” Catra yawns the next morning as she dresses. She must not have felt like walking all the way to her room, because she pulls on a pair of Adora’s joggers and one of her plain t-shirts as Adora dresses herself. Adora _tries_ not to frown, but Catra laughs at her, so she knows she fails. “You don’t have to _pout_ about it, princess, we can still have _sex_. I just should bring some clothes in here so I don’t have to go back to my room afterwards. Kills the mood,” Catra responds.

Adora was _not_ pouting, and she sends Catra a look to convey that as she puts up her hair. It is also a warning. Catra _loves_ to take down her ponytail, mostly to fuck with her and partially to run her hands through her hair. Catra just grins at her in response, predatory and unbothered. Adora swallows, feeling herself flush. She does not look _away_ though, even as she watches the satisfaction rise in Catra’s eyes at her reaction.

Eventually, they make their way out of the closet and down the stairs. Catra ducks into her room as they pass it to collect her phone from where she left it on charge during her sweep last night, cringing when she checks it as they walk. Adora eyes her curiously, but she knows she does not have to ask. Catra sighs, ears falling, as they reach the kitchen.

“Debrief with the entire family at noon in the spring parlor. Angella’s parlors are _seasonal_?” she relays, sending Adora a withering look that does nothing to hide her discomfort. Adora pauses where she was reaching for the fridge door, watching Catra carefully and seeing all that hard-earned _contentment_ slipping away in the face of the approaching tension.

Adora frowns, dropping her hand and reaching for Catra instead. Catra’s ears twitch, but she lets Adora take her hand and pull her to the kitchen bench. They settle next to each other, but Adora turns to face Catra, and after a moments’ hesitation Catra turns to face her too, tucking her knees up and hunching over them like she always did as a kid. She watches Adora with an edge of anxiety, clearly trying to hold back her worry until it is confirmed she should be having it.

“We need to go to the debrief. Juliet and I heard most of what was said from the car, but some of it was too muffled to make out. You know I don’t judge you for what you had to do, Catra. I will defend the fact that you _had_ to, but if there is any topic you need to steer clear of, I need you to tell me so I can cut off the conversation should it come up. My family trusts you, but if you won’t believe that, they trust _me_. If I tell them to drop something, they will,” she tells her, still holding her hand even as Catra’s other arm wraps around her legs.

Catra stares at her, gaze turning watery slowly as tears build in her eyes before she blinks them away. After a moment, Catra shakes her head, looking away. Adora frowns. She does not believe that in the _slightest_.

“Catra, this is going to be hard. I don’t want it to be harder than it has to be. We can talk about it _later_ if you are determined to, but I don’t want to see you hurt. I don’t want my _family_ to be added to the list of people who have hurt you,” Adora insists, shuffling a little closer until her knees are brushing Catra’s curled legs. Catra hunches in closer to her knees, but she bites her lip, _considering_. After a moment, she draws in a shuddering breath.

“Can we have breakfast first? Just- let me think about it,” Catra asks, her voice rough. Adora lets out a sigh, a bit relieved that Catra is at least _considering_ it, nodding her agreement. Catra hesitates, her gaze downcast, before she shakes her head and stands.

Catra cooks, this time. Now she is more comfortable in the house, she does it most evenings, and some mornings, especially after Adora has one of her night terrors, but Catra tends to prefer to lounge in the breakfast nook in the morning. Adora is more than happy to cook in the mornings, but today Catra seems to need the distraction. Her gaze keeps getting distant before she pulls herself back to Earth, refocusing on what she is doing.

They return to the nook with their food once it is ready. Adora watches Catra as they eat. Her eyes are still distant, flicking to the side occasionally, but she mostly looks blank. When they finish eating, they both stay seated at the table, Adora shuffling a bit closer on the bench so their sides are pressed together.

“You don’t have to tell them _anything_ , you know. They might need to know some stuff about how the Horde works in general, but they don’t need to know what they made you do,” Adora tells her, softly, reaching a hand down to stroke along Catra’s tail. It does not have the effect she had hoped. Catra frowns, her mouth twisting darkly.

“You should be more upset about what I’ve done,” Catra tells her, voice distantly bitter, though Adora is not sure who that bitterness is directed at, right now. She pauses, pulling back just enough to turn to face Catra again. Catra’s ears pin back, but she turns to face Adora too, hunching over her knees like before.

“I _am_ upset – but not with you. I’m upset with the Horde. I’m mad at the people who ordered those jobs and hurt not just the targets, but _you_ ,” Adora tells her, reaching out to gather Catra’s hand from where she has her arms wrapped around her legs. Catra’s ears twitch, her eyes wide as she stares at Adora.

After a long moment, she swallows. “Ask me. About the difference,” she says, her voice uneven.

It takes Adora a moment, but when it hits her she hears herself gasp. She was not going to ask, not _ever_ , not if Catra did not volunteer the information, but she knows what this is. She knew Catra did not have a choice, but she was even more trapped than Adora suspected with the kill switch in her neck. Trapped, forced to do what the Horde wanted – eleven times. Adora swallows, flexing her grip on her hand, hoping to ground her.

“Who were the two kills you didn’t do for the Horde?” she asks, her voice quiet.

\--

_Promotion_. The word has never been so red, dripping with the blood of others and making her anger rise and cloud her vision. Hordak says it with a curl of amusement to his voice, even though he does not bother to turn away from his monitors as he says it. Catra wants to cut him down where he stands.

She will be dead within minutes if she tries. He isn't the only one with access to the chip network. Catra swallows down her rising anger, stare fixed blankly ahead as she forces her tail to remain still even as she grits her teeth. “You will take on more jobs, and a wider variety. You will participate in training recruits, once we find a new source for them. You will not be given any more authority. You have not earned it,” Hordak says, dismissively, and then she is free to go - out of the room, anyway. Never _free_.

She goes to the training range and tears through it like a hurricane. Hordak has an inner circle, the _Captains_. And now she is a part of it, too – a junior part, because Hordak knows the second he gives her more leash she will choke him with it. Most of the Captains were here for at least a decade before they were given true authority. The notion is terrifying, to still _be_ here after all that time, still alive but for _what_.

For this, she realizes the next day, watching blood drip as her stomach turns. A _wider variety_ of jobs means it is time for her mentor to teach her his specialty. Grizzlor sustained a bad injury in a fight years before Catra was here, and he had to pull back to training and less physically demanding jobs, between his bad arm and stiff gait that stuck around even after his recovery. He became an _extraction_ specialist and mentor once he was no longer in field condition.

Catra watches him extract pain and screams as he needles information out of his victim. They are locked in the Horde’s torture chamber, a room rarely used by anyone but Grizzlor, but apparently Catra is to do this out in the _world_. Only the toughest targets are brought back here to be broken, Hordak paranoid about the location of the base being revealed when no one even knows they exist. The room is soundproofed from the outside so that the hybrids in the Horde have a _chance_ to carry on as normal while Grizzlor is working. From the inside, the screams echo off the walls and make Catra’s eyes water.

Then Grizzlor hands her the prying instrument that he has been using, narrowing his eyes at her as he does so. He crosses his arms, taking a step back and waiting for her to move forward and take on her new _responsibility_.

Three dead beneath her claws. Two choked. One pushed off a balcony. Four suffocated. One drowned. Eleven people dead in her wake, directly by her hands. There are more – people like the dictator she planted evidence against to rile up a coup, a goddamn civil war _her fault_ – but those are the eleven she sees when she closes her eyes at night.

She does not have to close her eyes now, in this chamber dripping in the scent of metallic blood and acrid fear. The victim - the _woman_ , just any other human - is hunched, strung out, only held up before Catra by her restraints. She is conscious, but just barely. Grizzlor is walking the fragile line to keep her weak and pliant, vulnerable, while also still capable of coherent speech. A technique to break as many of her barriers down as he can to pry the information he needs out of her.

Her blood drips to the floor, and Catra swallows, her hand shaking as she raises the tool. She can’t _do it_. She can’t do it. She feels delirious. Three years of this, and no escape or peace in sight. She fights every day to stay alive, but looking at this woman, dying to guard the location of fleeing family members so Catra will not be sent after them, she does not know what she is fighting for. To stay alive, but why, when this is the reward her heartbeat earns?

“Do it,” Grizzlor orders behind her, too close and looming. The tool drops from Catra’s shaking hand. Her claws slide out, and suddenly her hands aren’t shaking, not anymore. This, she knows. This, she is steady in. She turns, lightning fast, not thinking and just _acting_. She leaps _up_ before Grizzlor can react. He is not expecting it. He has barely managed to begin to cry out before Catra’s claws are drawing across his throat. She leaps off, away, _fleeing_ as his body falls backwards beneath her.

Twelve.

She stands, fingers flexing, unable to fist her hands without curling her claws into her own palm. It is the first blood on her hands she _chose_. She feels sick, and she feels conflicted by it. Grizzlor deserved it. So did some of her targets, though none like he did. She has hardly known a more casually cruel man. She _shouldn’t_ feel sorry.

Her throat is tight. He was her mentor. He taught her horrible things, he _was_ horrible, but he was a part of the Horde. As much as she hates it here, as much as she sometimes wishes the whole thing would catch alight and just _burn down_ , leaving no trace of all her shame, they are a family of the most fucked up kind here. The Horde _makes_ them rely on each other to survive.

It takes a few seconds, but Grizzlor’s heartbeat stops. She hears the silence over her own pounding fear and the strained breathing coming from behind her. She swallows, shoving the conflict _down_ , and turns around to face the woman.

She has already erased her name from her memory. It is easier that way. The woman watches her through half-lidded eyes. There is no hope in them. Despite what she just witnessed, she knows what Catra knows – she is not going to make it. Grizzlor is _good_ at his work. It will take hours, but the damage is done, especially with no medical attention on the way. Catra approaches, halting before her and swallowing thickly. The scent of fear is almost dizzying this close, but the woman is not putting it out _anymore_. It is all residual, lingering, as she meets her gaze with exhaustion.

“Do it,” she croaks. It is not the same request, not at all. Catra raises her hand, closing her eyes as she sweeps it _across_.

Thirteen. Five dead beneath her claws. The woman was going to suffer. It was going to be painful and long, like these last few years. She _asked_ Catra for it. She still feels sick. The woman didn’t deserve it. No matter who she was before, no one deserves this.

Catra stands, numb. After a moment, she turns in a daze towards the implements table and picks up a cloth there with shaking fingers. It is meant to wipe clean the torture implements, but she uses it to wipe the blood from her claws – they are the same thing as the tools, anyway. Her hands are starting to shake again, her head buzzing-

 _Buzzing_. Catra has watched one of the kill switches go off before, when a new recruit tried to run on their survival training mission. Hordak saw the tracker go off-course and set it off without hesitation. The boy’s body jerked, locked, falling over as electricity sparked and he was _gone_. The same device is planted at the base of her skull.

She is dead anyway if she does not _try_. Soon, maybe even in the next few minutes, Hordak will know. He will pull up the cameras in the room, taking sadistic pleasure in _breaking_ Catra. He always has, always watched each time she was forced into something new. It is not exclusive to her, or even Hordak – all of the captains enjoy watching the recruits break before them, break like they did. Hordak always took extra pleasure in breaking _her_ because she refused to do more than bend.

She refuses now. She will remain unbroken. She slides her claws out again, reaching to the back of her neck with shaking hands. Even if she does succeed in _this_ , she will bleed out quickly without medical attention – medical attention she will have to give _herself_. She will have to make her way out of the Horde’s complex, and then through the snow fields around it until she reaches civilization.

Her chances are hardly higher than zero, but she did not spend the last three years on Hordak’s _leash_ to give in now. She will remain unbroken.

She digs her own claws into the flesh of her neck.

\--

By the end of the story, Adora is holding her, Catra in her lap and her arms tight around her. Catra is crying, tears in her eyes but no sobs coming from her throat. Her breathing is ragged.

“Everything else, the Horde made me do. But those two – I chose. I didn’t see another option, but I _had_ it, I know I did. That woman did,” Catra says against her shoulder. Her hands are fisted in the front of Adora’s shirt. Adora has both arms wrapped around her, but one is curled up so her hand can rest of the back of her neck, hoping to ground her.

“You didn’t have another _good_ option. You ended her suffering. You kept Grizzlor from breaking her and putting the rest of her family at risk. Catra- I know it hurt you, but it was the _right_ thing to do,” Adora tells her, softly stroking the lines on the back of her neck. Her own hand is shaking, imagining Catra’s desperate clawing at her own flesh before Hordak turned the surveillance cameras on, before he saw moments too late and detonated the chip’s charge as Catra threw it aside to the floor.

Catra shudders against her, whining softly. She noses into Adora’s neck, clearly fighting for control, fighting to force down the tears and breathe normally again. Adora bites her lip.

“Let it out. It's okay. It is not weakness, not with me. Cry, my love. I have you,” Adora promises her, softly, hand still stroking.

For the second time in as many hours – for the second time _today_ , if you want to get technical about the _midnight_ thing – Catra shatters beneath her.

\--

Catra has never _let_ herself cry. She has cried, hating her inability to hold back the tears every time, but she has never just let them come – not at Shadow’s, not in the Horde, not after when she was waking choking on her own screams. Adora picks her up, carries her, until Catra finds they are on the couch. Adora holds her, strokes her, assures her as Catra huddles against her and _sobs_.

It is twenty three years overdue. It is grief for all the blood on her hands, including her own. It is _relief_ at having said the words, told the story, been _comforted_ in response instead of met with horror. It is a confused reaction to the feeling of assurance and being loved that spreads through her knowing Adora is not leaving her, not now and not _ever_.

She does not know how long she cries. Adora never seems to tire of whispering soft declarations of love to her, the words _you’re safe_ and _I have you_ over and over again. She holds her, kisses her hair, strokes down her arms, until finally Catra has no more tears left, dehydrated and shuddering in Adora’s arms. Adora’s neck and shirt are soaked, but she didn’t complain while Catra was crying, and she does not complain after.

“You deserve better than me,” Catra whispers, her voice scratchy. Adora is not leaving, but she deserves to know it if she does not already. The heat of _fury_ flares in Adora. It makes Catra’s heart clench.

“I deserve who I _love_ , and that is you, Catra,” Adora returns, her voice adamant.

Catra shudders, pulling back to make eye contact, meaning to say _something_. Instead, she uselessly opens and closes her mouth as she stares at the _conviction_ in Adora’s eyes.

In the background, Catra’s phone rings. It is noon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops went from smut to Here.  
> I actually am not a fan of "partners" personally because there is the guise of ambiguity there, but these two are such saps for each other they needed something more than girlfriends, and with homophobia not being a thing in-universe there is a lot less ambiguity to calling someone your partner - especially when you're rolling in each other's scent.


	12. ACT I: Prime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a week. Just a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since ACT I is almost done, I thought I would drop the official act titles. The acts are separate story threads, even if ACT I obviously influences ACT II. I will also be posting a fic notes essay for ACT I once it is complete, but will probably leave out one or two things in case they end up in ACT II (my fics tend to change a lot as I’m writing them, so I will play it safe).  
> ACT I: Slow burn. ACT II: SWORD.

Catra’s hand might shake if it was not for Adora holding it as she guides her through the spotless hallways to the spring parlor. Despite the fact they are holding hands, they are also walking close enough for their sides to brush, the contact never enough, not even after last night. _Especially_ not after last night.

Everybody is in the parlor when they arrive. They are late, after all. Catra _made_ them late. She does not regret it like she thought she might as Adora answered her phone for her and assured Juliet they were on their way. Catra had to finish pulling herself together. Adora had to change her shirt and dry the tears on her neck. Catra did not know _crying_ of all things was what she needed until Adora was _offering_ it, giving her permission to be weak.

Somehow, she now feels strong enough to do this as a result. Adora guides them to a plush, elegant loveseat. Catra goes to sit next to her, but Adora reaches for her with insistent hands and pulls her into her lap, tucking her back against her chest. Catra feels herself blush, tail twitching. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Adora glaring out at the rest of the room as she hooks her chin over Catra’s shoulder, daring someone to say something about it.

Angella looks mildly amused and Juliet does not even raise an eyebrow. Glimmer shoots Catra and Adora a somewhat unsure look from the couch where she and Bow are sat _beside_ each other, like _normal_ people, but neither of them comment. Angella does not give a preamble to start the meeting. She immediately looks to Catra.

“The Horde – they are an assassin ring?” Angella asks. Catra lets out a steadying breath. Angella could ask far worse questions – Catra could give worse _answers_.

“Not exclusively. Hits were just among the services. The Horde are _fixers_. You have a problem, they take care of it however is necessary,” Catra clarifies, resisting the urge to slink down against Adora. There is no point – she is surrounding her already.

“The threat to Adora,” Juliet puts forward. Catra feels her fur bristle. Several people actually blink in surprise. Not Adora, of course, she just runs a hand soothingly down her back, but Catra’s suit jacket usually hides when her body responds like this. She swallows, ducking her head down for a moment to calm herself.

“Guess Hordak is madder about Shadow’s than we thought,” Adora half-jokes, shrugging. She is stalling for her, but Catra turns to give her a withering look. Adora, _the idiot_ , smiles at her hopefully. Catra bares her fangs at her to make it clear how stupid that was before turning back to the room. It makes Adora blush but not even blink. Bow is looking at Catra with concern when she turns back around, but like he is concerned _for_ her. Fine, snarling at people is not the _average_ response to someone smiling, but Adora knows when she actually means it.

“If Lonnie says Hordak could be coming for Adora soon, we need to take it seriously,” Catra says. She hates thinking about this, but she knows it is true. She can only hope that should the order come, Lonnie and Rogelio are sent. They will at least _hesitate_ , unlike any other Horde operative. She is not willing to take the risk of believing they will stay true to their word should Adora become the target. Catra can’t rely on chance, not with Adora’s life.

Angella nods, expression grim. “We decided to leave the Prime issue alone only because it did not affect our daily operations. The Horde is a direct and personal threat. We cannot leave it be. Where is the base of operations?” she asks, looking to Catra. Catra feels her ears twitch.

“Canada. Get me a map and I can show you - _if_ they have not moved. I was the first person to escape without the kill switch and Hordak is paranoid. He likely moved the whole thing. He already did it once when Shadow’s got shut down – not that we knew that at the time. We just went from Wisconsin to Ontario suddenly,” Catra returns.

“I will pull on my contacts in the American and Canadian governments. I will have a cross-border taskforce put together and raiding their base by the end of the week, but it will only take care of the situation if they are still there,” Angella says, nodding in Juliet’s direction. Juliet nods back, immediately pulling out her phone and beginning to work. Catra feels the fur on her spine bristle a little. It _could_ be over just like that – but it won’t.

Angella is looking between Catra and Adora appraisingly. Catra swallows, well aware that though Juliet put trust in her last night, that does not mean Angella approves of an _assassin_ sharing her niece’s bed. Angella’s eyes flick between them before settling on Adora. “You knew,” Angella says, her words surprisingly soft. Adora does not even hesitate to nod, despite how she _didn’t_ -

“From the very first week. Catra was too different - I could tell what she had to do really hurt her. It was not hard to figure out from there, not knowing her the way I do,” Adora agrees. Catra forces her breathing to remain even, her tail to be still. _Every night_ laying in that guest bed, so sure Adora could never understand, that she would hate her as much as she hated herself-

She buries the thoughts. Angella’s eyes are shining as she looks at them. “And you still said there was no one else you would more readily trust your life to,” she reminds. She sounds _proud_. Catra feels herself blushing. She would _remember that_ if she had been there for that conversation. She fights her ears to stop from pinning them back, getting them down to mere twitching.

“I meant it,” Adora returns, voice soft. Catra swallows thickly. “I would have done the same damn thing in her position. I tried to get taken to be with her again before you showed up,” she adds with a shrug. Angella looks pained by the admission, but she nods and leans back in her seat. The approval is clear.

Catra feels a little lightheaded, both at hearing Adora’s admission – even for the second time – and the _approval_. She squeezes Adora’s hand in hers. Adora squeezes back without hesitation, turning her head to the side to press a kiss against her hair before she rests her chin on her shoulder again. It certainly does not help Catra’s blush, but she feels more grounded, at least. Juliet raises an eyebrow as she watches them out of the corner of her eye, but she does not comment.

“I will need a full report on everything you can give me on the Horde. Assets, operatives, any jobs you know they did. Omit anything that incriminates yourself, but include everything else that could be useful in case the base is empty. I will pass the report along to the taskforce,” Juliet says. Catra nods, feeling her tail sway uncertainly. She hesitates, and Angella notices. She sends Catra an expectant look that immediately draws her to the center of the room’s attention.

“When Adora was running through the Prime paper trail, I recognized the patterns as how my old jobs would go, even if they were obscured by the payments. Details like that were all Hordak, so I never saw them, but I also recognized one of the clients. I suspect Prime Industries _is_ the Horde. The type of jobs, the number of operatives it would require, Skell paying them and Rogelio showing up – it all matches up,” Catra explains, gesturing with her hands a bit from her nerves as she speaks. Angella turns her questioning gaze on Adora now, clearly looking for confirmation.

“The Horde has to get its money somehow. Catra is right, it all matches. If we inform the taskforce that Prime is their money laundering front, we could shut down the Horde’s access to their liquid assets. If they moved, losing access to their funding could make them scramble enough that they slip up and we get the evidence to track down their new location,” Adora muses. Angella nods her approval. Catra feels her breath catch.

She has spent three years avoiding everything to do with the Horde. She had no chance, not on her own. Her only option was running. With Adora’s family behind them, they might stand a chance at finally being free of the shadow Hordak has been casting over them since they were eight years old and realized something was not right with the strange man visiting the home.

“I will get the taskforce put together. In the meantime, Adora, work the paper trail and see if you can find any more evidence or the location of their current base,” Angella declares, finally rising from her seat. No one makes a move, _waiting_.

Angella pauses, halfway to the door. “Meeting dismissed,” she declares.

\--

The Horde monopolizes their weekend, but when it is time for family dinner, anything to do with the threat is carefully avoided. Catra writes her report after the meeting while Adora cuddles her on the couch so she can soothe her as the memories resurface. On Sunday, they have their defence lesson like normal – though it feels far from normal with the heavy air of its necessity hanging over them – and then spend most of the day working on the Prime trail.

The only acknowledgement of the Horde at Sunday dinner is Angella telling Adora she will be having another remote meeting with Entrapta on Monday when they first arrive. When dinner finishes, Angella clears her throat as Adora makes to stand. “Adora, I would like a word in private before you go home,” Angella says, standing herself. Adora looks towards Catra and finds her ears twitched back as she tries to look blank and fails.

Catra does not want to let Adora out of her sight, Adora knows. She knows because Catra spent the entire weekend following her closely to the point where she had sat on the counter in the bathroom while Adora was taking her post-workout shower that morning. It was not even to leer at her, though she definitely did that too.

“I’ll be right back,” Adora promises her, sending her a smile she hopes is reassuring. Catra bites her lip and nods, but her ears are quivering and she looks visibly anxious.

“Adora? Stay within shouting distance,” Catra requests, quietly, looking down and away from both her and the other table guests. Adora feels her heart melt just a little.

“Of course,” she agrees. She throws Catra one last smile before she goes to follow Angella. Angella leads her a hall away, stopping to stand in front of a landscape painting hung on the wall. It is a genuine _something or other_ , but neither of them are interested in it.

They are far enough not to hear anything from the dining room here. The conversation between Glimmer and Casta had not been loud when they left - not as loud as it can _get,_ anyway - but it had still echoed down the hallway after them. Adora knows they are at the edges of Catra’s hearing now. She might make out sounds, but not what is being said.

They are not facing each other, but Angella eyes her carefully. “How are you doing with all of this, Adora? And you know the rules,” Angella asks her. Adora rolls her eyes. She will be twenty-three in a few weeks now. _The rules_ were suggested by her therapist when she was seventeen. She almost huffs, she actually raises her shoulders to do it, but then she catches the amused lift to Angella’s brow and stops herself.

 _The rules_ are archaic at this point in her life, from the time when Angella had just found her and Adora was both struggling to make it through the day and struggling to _hide_ it, but some of them are still relevant. Like the one that bans the use of the word _fine_ and the one that insists she either openly admit she can’t talk about something or actually _talk_ about it rather than deflect.

When that last one got added, she was bluntly honest with her therapist for five minutes and left the woman in _tears_. Angella moved her on to her third and thankfully last therapist after that, but the rule stuck around. Adora was really hoping it _wouldn’t_. At that point she still had not even told someone about Catra, too drowned in her own guilt over letting her be taken to admit how she failed her.

“I’m better having her by my side and knowing Hordak wants to kill me than I was not knowing if she is even still out there or what he did to her. I’m scared, and I’m worried, but I have her,” Adora tells Angella, shrugging a little as she speaks, carefully not looking at her as she admits it. She hears Angella draw in a breath.

“Adora,” Angella says softly, drawing her attention back to her. “I need you to be honest with yourself. Is she a threat?” Angella asks. Adora turns to immediately stare her down, glaring up at her, but Angella merely raises a brow and waits. She waits for _thirty seconds_ before Adora finally cracks, still glowering.

“She might draw extra attention from the Horde, but she would never hurt me or anyone else here,” Adora mutters, still glaring at Angella. Angella nods, accepting, and Adora feels herself relax _a little_. She stops glowering, at least.

“You like her. She will stay. I just need to know you are being level-headed about all of this,” Angella tells her. Adora sighs, looking away and letting out the breath that was puffing up in her chest. She nods. When she looks back, Angella has a shining, almost bittersweet look in her eyes.

“I meant what I said about you being good for each other. You two remind me of myself and Micah. I know you never talked about her before, but I can also see _why_ ,” Angella tells her, her voice soft. Adora draws in a sharp breath. Angella rarely mentions Micah – for six years, Adora never talked about Catra outside of what was necessary to look for her.

“It hurt too much,” she breathes, even though she knows Angella knows that already. Catra was written into nearly every moment of her life before Angella adopted her, and every one of those memories felt like a knife in her chest knowing Catra was gone. Angella just nods, smiling sadly as she straightens up a little taller.

“Go back to her,” Angella instructs. Adora _tries_ not to bounce on her heels as she nods eagerly and fails. She is already starting down the hall before she pauses, a thought occurring to her. Hesitantly, she turns back towards Angella, taking a few steps closer – away from Catra – just to be sure. Angella raises a brow in response, clearly surprised by Adora stopping herself.

“Angella? I know not _right now_ , and to anyone who didn’t know us before it still will seem fast, but I want to marry her,” Adora says, doing her best not to look _shy_ despite how small she feels asking Angella for permission like this. She does not know why she needs it – she just feels like she has to tell Angella, if not outright ask for approval.

Angella does not look the slightest bit surprised at her words. She looks a little exasperated, maybe, but mostly fond. “Wait until after the next _quarter_ , at least. After that, get her any ring you like. Wedding planning usually takes at least a year anyway if you decide you rushed into things,” Angella tells her, soft adoration in her tone.

If Adora were not feeling so _relieved_ , she would scoff. “We’ve been in love since we were eight. I’m not changing my mind,” Adora returns, but for once she is not argumentative, just _telling_ her. She is far too happy at having the permission to argue right now.

Angella’s smile is amused. “I know you aren’t,” she returns.

\--

Angella is _smart_ with where she takes them. Catra can pick up whispers of Adora’s tones but no _words_ , especially not with Glimmer talking at the same time. It is enough confirmation to keep her from being too on edge, but she is still grateful when Adora’s scent hits her again as she comes back.

Adora is _bouncy_ when she returns, clearly happy about whatever Angella said. She takes Catra’s hand and does not leave a lot of room for argument as she pulls Catra from the conversation she was not really a part of anyway. “Goodnight to you too, Adora,” Casta calls pointedly as Catra finds herself dragged from the room. Adora just waves a hand over her shoulder in acknowledgement and keeps going, a steamroller on a warpath.

“What, uh, did Angella want to talk about?” Catra asks, a bit _dazed_ as Adora pulls her through the halls.

“Hm? Oh, just checking how I was holding up. How we were doing. You know how she is,” Adora responds, mind clearly _elsewhere_ , set on whatever her current fixation is as she drags them back to the car they took up the drive to be safe.

Adora’s _current fixation_ turns out to be Catra when they are alone again. They barely get in the garage and out of the car before Adora is pressing her against the side of it and kissing her with all the intensity of a supernova. Catra absolutely does _not_ let out a surprised _mrrph_ when Adora pins her to the passenger side door with her mouth. Adora’s hand are on her hips quickly, holding her still and close. Catra is not _complaining_ , not in the slightest, but-

“What did Angella say to you that got you _horny_?” Catra half-jokes, half-asks when they break apart to pant for breath. Adora snorts, running her hands up and down Catra’s sides almost _absently_ despite the predatory look sparking to life in her eyes. She smirks as Catra shifts into the roaming touch.

“That _wasn’t_ where I was going with this, but since you suggested it…” Adora tries with a shit-eating grin and suggestive raised eyebrow as she leans in close. Catra is still catching her breath from the last kiss. She sends her a skeptical look in response, pointedly arching her back into where Adora’s touch appears to be _done_ roaming, one hand settled to knead at her chest while the other holds her hip in place.

“People usually don’t go from conversations with their aunt to sex,” Catra manages to point out, despite how coherent thought is beginning to feel like a _challenge_. She certainly does not remember why she cares about this when she could have Adora’s mouth on hers. Adora actually beams at her, leaning in to press sweet kisses along her jaw despite the way she has Catra’s nipple caught between two fingers through her shirt, causing Catra to whine and shift beneath her.

“I’m just stupid in love with you and needed to kiss you after talking about you with Angella,” Adora murmurs between kisses. Catra _tries_ not to mewl at that, but the statement coincides with Adora’s fingers _pinching_ , so she utterly fails. She flushes at Adora’s answering smirk, her tail thudding against the side of the car as Adora kisses her again, air thoroughly _smug_.

“So where _are_ you going with this?” Catra gasps when they pull apart, hoping it will prompt Adora to a different direction now that she is _toying_ with her. Adora kisses Catra again instead of answering, long and slow this time. Catra shudders beneath her, her arms coming up from where they were braced against the car in surprise to wrap around Adora’s shoulders instead. Adora, the traitor, pulls back and grins down at her.

“It was going to be the couch, probably, but now I think I prefer the bed,” Adora responds before she is leaning in again. Catra tries to fight her flush, but it does not really matter if she loses when Adora is kissing her like _this_ and can’t see it anyway. The small moan she releases tells Adora all she needs to know, however.

“Fine, but I’m on top this time,” Catra agrees when they pull apart, as if it is a _concession_. Fondness sparks in Adora’s eyes – Catra knows her flippantness does not fool her in the slightest. When she leans in this time, she does not bend down, pressing a kiss to Catra’s forehead instead.

“I can work with that,” Adora agrees before she sweeps her hands down from Catra’s hips to her thighs and _picks her up_ to carry her to the bedroom.

\--

Catra follows, approximately, one step behind her all the way from the parking garage into the executive elevator on Monday. Adora tries to reach for her once inside, despite the fact that they have not fooled around in the elevator since that first time, but Catra raises an eyebrow and gives her an _absolutely not_ look. Adora pouts – doesn’t even deny to herself that she does – and waves her hand in Catra’s direction hopefully instead. Catra narrows her eyes at her, but she does give Adora her hand to hold.

Adora will take it. She was not really going to _do_ anything, anyway. She just wanted to touch her, _maybe_ kiss her before they had their meeting with Entrapta. She was not going to pin her to the railing like last time or anything. Catra makes her a bit stupid, yeah, but she is not a complete idiot. Now is not the time to be making out in public places and distracting Catra from her job.

It is _always_ the time to make out in her office, though. She waits patiently at her desk until Catra is done with her security sweep before she tries to reach for her again. She pouts like before, but this time Catra rolls her eyes and steps within her arms’ reach. Adora feels a grin burst across her face as she pulls a flushing Catra in and dedicates nearly seven minutes to kissing her until the tension that has been gathering in her shoulders ever since they left the house starts to melt away.

The concern Catra is showing is justified, but Adora hates seeing her stressed like this. They are locked in her office for the rest of the day, all of her meetings for the week switched to calls or cancelled completely. Juliet has Alliance’s security team set on “twitchy enough to tackle someone over an unexplained Twix in their pocket” and regular check-ins scheduled throughout the day.

If anything, the resulting privacy means there has never been a _better_ time to make out in her office. Well, except for the video call with Entrapta in – Adora pulls away from the kiss to check the clock – four minutes. Catra uses the distraction to bolt, pausing only to smirk at Adora’s obvious disappointment as she disappears behind the partition wall to stow their lunches in the fridge.

Catra continues to hide behind the partition wall as Adora starts her call with Entrapta. Adora can smell tea in the air as she explains the events of the gala, editing out the confrontation in the garage and leaving it at “Catra recognized the assassin, so we know who Skell hired from.” It is true without admitting more than passing knowledge of a criminal’s existence.

“We are working with the authorities to dismantle the organization Skell has hired right now. We hope to find evidence Skell hired them in the process so we can send him away as well, but until then you should continue your lockdown,” Adora explains. To her surprise, Entrapta _brightens_ at that. She excitedly begins a screen share as Catra finally emerges from behind the partition wall with two cups of tea.

Adora smiles at her, too much and too in love over tea, but despite hearing her voice in the background a few times she has yet to _see_ Scorpia on the call and Entrapta won’t notice, so _whatever_. Catra blushes and moves to hover somewhere over her shoulder, close enough for Adora to feel her presence. It also allows Catra to see the material reports Entrapta is pulling up on the screen as Adora sips her tea.

“I might be able to help with putting Skell away, actually,” Entrapta explains as she pulls up documents. Adora blinks at her screen in surprise. In the corner, Entrapta beams in response “My silicon shipment was late, and I need to make a number of CPUs for my current project to advance, so I had extra time on my hands and hacked into First Ones Innovation’s systems. Their security was… cute,” Entrapta says, shrugging. She is still smiling.

Catra is leaning over Adora’s shoulder now, staring down at her screen incredulously. “You found something useful and you are only telling us _now_?” Catra asks. Entrapta blinks at her. In Entrapta’s defence, she did just admit to breaking the law, but Adora is pretty sure Entrapta was not thinking about that when she did it – or when she told her, either.

“I found evidence of minor criminal activity. Skell has the blueprints and production records for microdevices that he does not sell publicly or report the sales of. He directly orders their production in his R&D lab. The data shows only he and his researchers should know of it. The orders are small, usually a few devices at a time, but they convict him of fraud,” Entrapta explains all-too-happily, pulling up blueprints and device specs on the screen that mean nothing to Adora.

Catra’s tail lashes harshly again Adora’s side. Adora turns to look up to her, expecting it to be a not-so-subtle hint, but Catra is not looking at her at all, her gaze fixed on the blueprint Entrapta has pulled up. Her fur is bristling, ears pinned back, and her eyes are wide as her tail lashes.

“Adora,” she says, voice strained, “the chips.”

\--

There is nothing to do but turn the data over to the authorities and wait. They won’t have to wait long with Angella’s connectiona – Prime Industries will already have all their assets frozen come Wednesday morning – but the waiting is still excruciating. Seeing the chip blueprints, knowing where they _come from_ now, makes Catra’s fur crawl. Skell has to know what he is making, but she wonders if he even gives a shit to think about its effects.

She has a nightmare Monday night. The discussion of the chips that had followed Entrapta’s discovery makes the memories too much for her to suppress even with Adora wrapped around her. She wakes up writhing in Adora’s embrace as she scrabbles for her neck. Adora helps her through it with soft kisses on her ears and whispered assurances, her arms strong around her, _stopping_ Catra’s hands from reaching her neck this time, at least until she has calmed down enough to retract her claws. In the meantime, Adora twines their fingers together, unbothered by the proximity to her sharp claws, and presses soft kisses to the back of her neck, whispering that she is safe.

By the time she falls back asleep, Catra is purring. She is still anxious, come morning. She is anxious all week as Adora alternates between trying to do her regular business and chase the Prime trail in the gaps. Freezing the assets is necessary, it makes it a hell of a lot harder for Hordak to come after them, but it is also an act of aggression. She is not fool enough to think Hordak will abandon them even as it forces him to scramble.

Adora keeps trying to soothe her tension, but her own is clearly building as well. Adora is twitchy come Thursday. The pointless raid was that morning. They found nothing but a few traps and the stench of blood. It is down to Hordak slipping up or Adora finding something in the Prime paper trail. First Ones Innovation is under investigation, too, but the chips were not official sales and there are no records of where they went.

Maybe it is the stress of knowing how much rides on them now, but when Juliet leaves after her post-lunch check-in, Adora hardly waits for Catra to return from locking the door before she is picking her up and putting her on the desk. Catra does not protest as Adora steps between her legs and pulls them flush together, kissing her long and slow. A stress collapse is _definitely_ incoming. Adora needs a break.

They haven’t had sex since the weekend – they aren’t _now_ – but making out helps them both with their tension, and it gives Adora a reason to turn her brain off for a little while. Catra needs this just as badly as Adora does, sighing against her mouth as Adora deepens the kiss, her hands trailing over her. Her hands making their way to _open her suit jacket_.

“Adora, we’re in public,” Catra reminds as Adora undoes the button and slips her hands inside to roam them over Catra’s dress shirt instead. Adora flushes, bending to kiss along Catra’s neck, but she does not withdraw her hands.

“My office is private. And locked. And this suit is _killing me_ ,” Adora returns, voice a special kind of _frustrated_. Catra is wearing the suit that made Adora trip on _nothing_ when Catra came to collect her after a meeting the first time she wore it. Catra swallows. Clearly they should have blown off steam before this, but like last week, the general anxiety had kept them from it - until they reached a breaking point, apparently.

“You think you are any better, princess? Your stupid suit vest is pushing your tits up to the ceiling,” Catra counters, despite how she should not be _goading_ right now – but it is all she ever does. Adora blushes, but her hands have made their way to Catra’s shoulders, cautiously pushing her suit jacket off of them. Catra feels herself swallow, her mouth suddenly dry and thighs twitching in for a moment.

She does not know why she feels so _exposed_ , still fully dressed in her suit pants and dress shirt, now that her jacket is pooling around her wrists on the surface of Adora’s desk. Adora is watching her carefully, her hands retreating to the relative safety of Catra’s hips as she clearly tries to gauge Catra’s reaction – as _Catra_ tries to gauge her reaction.

This would be an _incredibly stupid_ idea. Sure, they are in Adora’s office. Sure, Adora’s office is still partially sound-proofed from when it was conference room. Now is also _not the time_ to be fooling around. Alliance security may be tight, but it is still a public location. She promised herself they would never do anything like this at Alliance when they first got together.

Catra is also turned on just from Adora’s light touches. She can feel the heat rolling off Adora, the _desire_ obvious and affecting Catra in turn. Catra breaks with a growl of frustration and fists the front of Adora’s shirt in her hand, dragging her into a searing kiss. Adora lets out a soft, surprised moan as she sinks into the kiss, her hands wandering up to undo the buttons of Catra’s dress shirt now the permission is clear. When Adora has her shirt open, hands roaming greedily over her chest, Catra breaks the kiss.

“On the desk, Adora,” she instructs. Adora pauses, blinking at her in obvious confusion as she stills her hands. Catra smirks, just an edge of smugness to it. “We are doing this, but I can’t protect you while you are _inside_ of me. On the desk, princess,” Catra instructs, her smile turning predatory as the realization dawns on Adora’s face at the same time as a dark flush blossoms.

Adora whimpers softly when Catra slips off the desk and spins them around. She rescues her jacket from being crumpled beneath them, draping it over the back of Adora’s chair, but then she is pushing Adora down to lay out over the desk, kissing her way down her neck as she undoes her vest – kissing and _nipping_ her way down her chest as she undoes her dress shirt.

“Catra,” Adora whines, clearly thrown but turned _on_. Catra can smell her desperation now as she places careful bites across her stomach, licking along the lines of her muscles. Adora lets out a soft, bitten-down cry as Catra’s hands find her fly.

“Right here, princess. I’ll take care of you,” Catra reminds her, softer than she intended, but it makes Adora let out a soft sigh as she undoes her pants and pulls them down, along with her underwear. Adora is worked up already, and Catra’s mouth has gone from dry to watering, but having a _Juliet_ situation at work might be the worst possible thing they could do.

She settles for running her fingers over her, gathering her slick on her hand before she works it gently against her clit. Adora bites down a moan, clearly doing her best to keep quiet. She needs to, but Catra wants to make it _difficult_ for her. She reaches up with her free hand, hooking it beneath the band of Adora’s sports bra and shoving it _up_.

With Adora’s button down still on her shoulders, the best Catra can do is shove the stretchy fabric up to get caught beneath her armpits, but it still makes Adora gasp as Catra exposes her, and it still gives her _access_. Catra smirks, bending forward to nip at the underside of her breasts. Adora gasps, jerking beneath her, jerking _towards_ her. Catra purrs quietly, kissing her way _up_ until she can take one of Adora’s stiffening nipples in her mouth and lave her rough tongue against it.

One of Adora’s hands grips the edge of the desk. The other flies to her mouth to stifle her small cry as she arches into Catra’s mouth. Maybe it is how much she needs to let go after all the building tension – maybe it is just the illicitness of doing this still half-dressed and at _work_ \- but Adora is twitching beneath her already. Catra moves her mouth to kiss and suck at Adora’s other breast, earning a stifled, whining sigh. She runs her free hand along Adora’s entrance and gets a sharp gasp in return.

“Catra, please,” Adora pants quietly around her hand, rolling her hips to make it clear what her _please_ is for. Catra releases her chest, leaning back to survey the _mess_ she has made of her lover – beneath her shirt, at least. Catra will know it is there, and Adora is not leaving her office anyway.

“Keep quiet for me, princess,” Catra instructs before pressing in. Adora drops her head back, a moan suppressed in her throat and eyes fluttering closed as Catra rocks into her. She sighs, walls _twitching_ as Catra works her clit and strokes into her smooth and slow. Catra's mouth is dry again watching Adora melt beneath her, hand still covering her mouth as her flush spills down to grace the top of her breasts.

For the first time since the weekend, Adora _relaxes_ , peaceful and relieved as she begins to work her hips down to meet Catra, making it rougher even as Catra keeps her pace steady. Catra had not known it until this moment – Adora might still deny it, even – but for a top, she _loves_ to be fucked. She stifles sighs and moans in her throat and beneath her hand, eyes half-lidded as she watches Catra drink her in with hungry eyes, the returned heat clearly _doing it_ for her.

Adora twitches under her, moans passing ­ _near-silent­_ and moving to ­ _nearly-stifled_ as Catra works her closer, pushes her harder. It does not take long, not with Adora so _pliant_ like this, before her walls are clenching as she has to bite her hand to keep quiet, a soft whimper still slipping forth. Catra feels her own heat like a blazing fire as Adora comes softly, almost silent despite how harshly she clenches down on Catra’s fingers before she goes totally limp beneath her.

Catra pulls out slowly, leaning forward to nuzzle along Adora’s front to still give her contact. They will have to go to Adora’s bathroom to clean themselves up, especially if they don’t want someone to smell the traces on them when they leave in a few hours, but for the moment Catra indulges in laying against Adora, nuzzling her way up to her shoulder. Adora likes to cuddle _anyway_ , but she seems to especially after sex. Adora sighs happily, hand dropping to wrap around Catra’s back.

“I love you,” she whispers, still a little breathless. She has yet to orgasm without saying it – or make _Catra_ come, either. Maybe Adora just says it a lot and Catra is placing unnecessary significance on these moments. Catra feels her blush a little at the simple _happiness_ in Adora’s voice, nudging in against her chest.

“I love you too,” she promises back, pressing a kiss to her sternum. She purrs softly at the small sound of delight Adora releases, seemingly perfectly content to lay splayed out, naked on her desk with Catra against her. She runs her hand up and down her back, but she does not shift beyond that. Catra lets them have a few minutes, partially just to cool the heat burning between her own legs, before she shifts and pulls back.

Adora lets out a soft noise of disappointment, but then her eyes light up and she is scooting forward, reaching for Catra and leaning up to press kisses against her bare chest. Catra never wears a bra and Adora already had her dress shirt most of the way open before Catra flipped them. This is _not_ helping with tamping down her own desire.

“Adora, I told you, I can’t protect you while we are like that. Wait until after work,” Catra tells her, dropping a hand to cup the back of her head. She blushes when Adora pauses and looks up at her with blatant disappointment and hope.

“A little longer?” she requests. It should _not_ be cute, but it makes Catra’s ears twitch and her tail sway as she nods, totally lost for words. Adora smiles, wide and happy, as she leans in to nuzzle and kiss along Catra’s sternum again.

\--

Catra is true to her word about _not at work_. She clearly hates it as much as Adora does, but she lets Adora indulge in kisses for several minutes more before she insists they get cleaned up and go back to work. Adora flushes at the pointed statement. If it had been a normal workday, she is not sure they could have gotten away with such a thing. With most of Adora’s meetings cancelled, no one notices, and they make their way through the rest of the day without further incident.

Adora had felt close to collapsing that morning. After Catra took her apart like _that_ , helped her let go exactly like she did not even know she _needed_ , the rest of the day is bearable. It seemed to relax them both, but by the end of the day tension is gathering in Catra’s shoulders again. Adora is uncertain if she is worried about the Horde or getting _caught_ , but nothing happens as they leave and Catra relaxes _a little_ once they start the drive home.

Adora is determined to relax her _more_. They make their way into the house like normal, but that is part of the plan. They stop in the kitchen to get a drink. Adora waits until Catra is setting her water back on the counter before she backs her up against the kitchen table, kissing her insistently. Catra lets out the same surprised, _adorable_ noise she had released on Sunday when Adora _also_ kissed her without warning, only this time Adora has intentions from the start.

“You couldn’t wait until we got to the bedroom?” Catra asks, half laughing and then cutting off in a soft _oh_ when Adora’s hands slide down to squeeze her ass before picking her up to place her on the kitchen table.

“Want you here,” Adora explains, leaning in to kiss her again. She is grateful Catra took off her suit jacket to roll her shoulders once they got in the front door. The jacket is hanging in their entryway now, leaving Catra’s burgundy dress shirt and suit pants the only barriers to finally getting to _touch_ her after she reduced Adora to a pliant, whimpering mess earlier.

Catra flushes, but she makes no protests as Adora kisses her again, hands already working at her shirt buttons. Well, almost no protests. “The windows,” she points out between kisses, despite how she presses in for another. Adora pulls her undone shirt up from where it is tucked into her suit pants, sighing in satisfaction as her hands roam over _skin_.

“We can close the shutters, but I thought that was why you _liked_ it here,” Adora points out. It is broad daylight with no one having any reason to come around to Adora’s part of the property. She is not worried about them being seen.

“What are you talking about?” Catra asks, confused, but she is still flushed, her tail still sweeping back and forth like it does when she is excited. Adora frowns, reaching up to take down her ponytail. Despite her confusion, Catra lifts her head to let Adora free her hair so it can splay out on the table beneath her.

“This is kind of your corner. I thought it was because you liked the windows,” Adora explains, but clearly she is _wrong_. Maybe it is just that this is the only comfortable place to curl up while Adora is cooking in the mornings. Catra stares at her, gears turning in her head before her flush blazes. Adora watches in fascination as Catra tries to cover the reaction with a smug smirk.

“It _is_ because of the windows, but that is why you want to fuck me here, isn’t it? You want to take me in _my_ spot?” she asks, flushed and teasing. She is _right_ and only pretending to be smug about it. Her tail is lashing, blush blazing, chest standing at attention. She likes the idea as much as Adora does, clearly. Adora drops her hands to the waistband of her pants.

“I want you,” Adora returns. It is not an outright denial, because Catra is right, but it is possessive when she puts it like that. Adora _is_ possessive, but she can pretend. Catra smirks at her, raising an eyebrow, but she arches her hips in permission. Adora feels a spike of excitement, knowing it must show in her face from the fondness that creeps into Catra’s expression even as Adora undresses her, undoing her pants and removing them along with her underwear. Her dress shirt is still crumpled beneath her, but they can get it dry-cleaned _later_.

Adora kisses her hungrily, the way she wanted to after Catra left her _ruined_ on that desk. Catra meets her readily, arms wrapping around Adora to pull her close against her. Adora runs her hands over her and she shudders under her touch, arching in it. Catra spreads her legs a little wider to wrap them around Adora’s back and draw her in. She makes eye contact with Adora when they pull apart from the kiss, a challenging grin spreading across her face.

“ _Take me_ , then,” she tells her. Adora groans, her hands sliding down immediately to touch Catra, to feel along her and drink in the needy noises she releases as Adora finds just how wet she is already. Maybe she suspected before Adora pressed her against the table – maybe her protests were just for show. They usually are. Adora does not care, not when she is ready and moaning after only a few moments of attention to her clit.

Adora presses in, feeling her breath stolen by the instant roll of Catra’s hips as she tries to get _more_. Adora gives it to her gladly, working her clit with one hand and fucking her with the other. Catra does not have to hold back her noises, soft cries and loud moans spilling forth, turning to _mewls_ when Adora readjusts her angle to thrust against that spot that made Catra writhe beneath her on the first night.

“Adora,” Catra cries out, no _meaning_ aside from desperation as she works herself harder down against her, splayed out for Adora on the kitchen table.

“I’ve got you, Catra. I have you,” Adora assures her, drinking in the way Catra shudders and nearly _sobs_ at that, more desperation seeping into her movements now. She growls in response, but there is no _heat_ there, just need and frustration. Adora was eager to give herself over to Catra when it became clear that was the way things were going, but Catra fights her for it, makes her _earn_ it.

Adora is more than happy to, leaning forward to kiss along Catra’s chest while she works her. She remembers how _good_ Catra’s mouth had felt against her a few hours ago, and though she does not have her tongue, it seems to do the trick anyway, because Catra cries out and twitches _hard,_ but does not come – yet. Adora grins against her, repeating the kissing, sucking, _biting_ on her other breast and earning a whimpered attempt at her name before Catra is shuddering and coming for real this time.

Catra moans and shakes through it, still working herself down on Adora’s fingers even as the contractions clench down on them. Adora worries about all the stimulation being too much, so she leans back from her chest and drinks in the sight of all that tension, that _fight_ slipping away as Catra comes. Adora strokes through her one last time before pulling out and leaning forward, gathering Catra in her arms.

Catra makes a soft, questioning noise, but she lets Adora pick her up, curling into her happily and nuzzling into her neck. Adora is a little too overwhelmed by _Catra_ to get them up the stairs right now, but she takes her to the couch in the living room so they can lay out, Catra quickly adjusting to cling and drape over her chest.

Catra has been _cuddly_ post-orgasm so far and Adora wants to enjoy it, murmuring _I love you_ s into her hair as she strokes down her back and presses kisses to her ears. Catra purrs, happy and content, as she nuzzles into Adora, now readily taking the affection that Adora had wanted to give her at work earlier. Adora loves Catra _always_ , but she loves Catra like this especially, with all her barriers stripped away, happiness and peace dripping from her, affectionate and unashamed of it.

“Was that what you wanted?” Catra asks, eventually, when her words are just buzzing instead of _rolling_ with the force of her purr. She is still nuzzling against Adora’s neck, probably rolling in her scent or something. It feels nice, and it is cute regardless. Adora won’t ever say that though – Catra would _stop_. She tilts her head back and bites her lip when Catra starts to intersperse short licks in with her nuzzles. Adora is familiar with these touches, they are _affectionate_ , but when Catra is naked against her, her mind wanders elsewhere.

“You’re what I wanted,” Adora clarifies. Catra’s ears twitch, her tail lashing a bit as she properly buries her face in against Adora’s neck. Adora smiles to herself, raising a hand up to pet over Catra’s ears. Her purr is still going. It has gotten _louder_ , actually.

“Fucking sap,” Catra accuses with no heat, despite the way she is buried in against her, _wriggling_ to be closer. Adora smirks a little, tugging lightly on the tip of Catra’s ear and getting a growl in response as Catra twitches her ear away. Adora was careful, she did not do it enough to hurt, but Catra always hated her ears being messed with by anyone, in any way, other than Adora petting them. It does not work to bring her out from Adora’s neck like she had hoped it would. Adora speaks anyway.

“My love,” she reminds her, voice soft but _smug_. She has not said it since she was reassuring Catra after her nightmare on Tuesday, but Catra had utterly fallen apart for it last Friday. Adora does not want to _waste_ it.

Catra lets out a variation of the mewl from that night, happy and flustered and a bit _confused_ , almost like she does not understand her own reaction. Her tail lashes as she settles for nudging in and kissing along Adora’s neck as a response.

\--

Catra wakes at two AM on Friday morning, Adora wrapped around her back and snoring softly. It is not the snoring that wakes her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angella: Wait at least three months to propose. Adora: Ok *sets an alarm for 90 days from now*  
> Catra: I’m on top. Adora: Ok *picks her up*  
> Adora has _no chill_ okay.  
> Just realized I gave Skell a mistress in chapter 8, which means he is married. Uhhhh it’s to that dumb staff he was always carrying around.  
> I had to effectively "skip" a day when I would have updated due to a chronic flare-up in my arms. I am still recovering, so the next update will likely also be in 3-4 days rather than my usual 2. I have to write slower, and as ACT I closes I want to make sure I get it right.


	13. ACT I: Nightfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is glass, being scratched - being _cut_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference video of the actual real Vegas suite, see [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KdkOKsrWfL4) \- although probably pause and wait for when you reach that part of the story.

Catra wakes to a distant but _ear-splitting_ sound. Glass being cut, slowly as if that makes it any better. As if that stops the fear from spiking in her blood, her entire body tensing before it comes alive and she bolts up in the bed. The sound is quiet, the tool adequate but not _enough_. It must be inaudible to Adora but she stirs at Catra’s movement and then jolts as Catra grips her arm, claws out and fear building in her chest as her ears swivel to pinpoint the sound. Down, near the kitchen-

The bay windows, an entrance being cut in the large, seamless sheet. The sensors on the windows are sensitive, but the _right_ cutting device would do it without triggering them. The right device also would not make this sound. Catra glances to the bedside table and sees Adora’s phone screen already silently lighting up with the security alert. The entire security team will be here within minutes – she just has to keep Adora safe until then.

“Intruders in the kitchen. Stay _silent_ ,” Catra hisses, standing from the bed and yanking Adora out after her. She hears Adora’s breath catch, her heart thudding loudly. Suddenly Catra’s fear is not the only scent in the room. Catra pulls Adora with her as she crosses the room to the dresser, kneeling to open the bottom drawer that became hers when she moved some of her things into Adora’s room. She tries to force her breathing even, _quiet_ , as she extracts two guns from their case.

She shoves one of the guns into Adora’s hand. She blinks down at it in the darkness, her breathing coming fast as she swallows audibly. They do not have the time for her to process. At least she is aiming it carefully at the floor. Catra grabs her other wrist with her free hand and drags her to the closet. She pulls her arm forward harshly, propelling Adora inside with momentum. Adora stumbles through, turning to stare at Catra with wide eyes in the darkness.

“Duck behind the gowns. Don’t come out until I tell you to. Until I call you _my love_ , okay?” Catra hisses to her. Hopefully, Catra can deal with this threat on her own before Juliet even gets here. If Catra _can’t_ , she knows from experience you can force someone to call out to someone when it is the last thing they want to do. She can only hope Adora will _listen_ and not come if the pet name is absent. Adora’s breathing is ragged, but she nods, looking down to the weapon in her hand.

Adora has basic firearms training. She knows enough to handle a simple pistol. Catra is not leaving her with _nothing_. She reaches out, covering Adora’s hand with her own for a moment before flicking off the safety. She swallows, taking a step back and closing the closet door before Adora can protest.

The noise in the kitchen pauses, then resumes. Catra crosses the room again, her heart thudding in her chest as she unlocks the bedroom door. There are no voices on the other side of the shearing glass. When she hits the hallway, the sound of the glass cutting stops. A small scuffle follows, scraping and a soft thud, and then utter silence.

Catra’s adrenaline has not run like this since her first job, but she silently creeps down the hall and plasters herself to the wall beside the stairs, _waiting_. The soft thud of a boot on the kitchen floor echoes out. Another impact as the second foot follows, someone climbing through the window. A moment, and then another soft impact with a slight scrape as a second person begins to climb through. That is when the scent permeates far enough into the house to hit her.

Fear, and a fear she knows well. Lonnie, traces of Rogelio as he climbs in the window after her. Catra swallows, feeling her fingers twitch on the handle of the gun. She can’t trust them – she _can’t_. She wants to, she fucking _wants_ to, but it does not matter how many times they have saved each other’s lives.

It doesn’t matter how she and Rogelio used to run around on all fours as kids, their claws scraping scuffs in the dirt as Adora laughed. Lonnie was not around yet, and Rogelio only went up to her hip. It doesn’t matter that later, years later, she passed Adora disinfectant as she cleaned Lonnie’s back, her voice shaking but hands steady as she explained to Rogelio what she was doing, the things she had learned online to help Catra. Even later _doesn’t matter_ , Lonnie picking her up after she collapsed during their training, dragging her to Rogelio so he could use what Adora taught him to clean her wounds.

If any of that mattered to _them_ , they would have called. They had to ditch the card long before they ever got back to base, but it would have been a simple matter to memorize the number. They were generally kept on a tight leash, but getting ahold of a phone on a job would not have been hard. They probably could only have managed a few hours warning, but if they had no intent to follow through, they would have done it.

Catra grabs her tail with her free hand to stop it from lashing. All her fur is bristling, but that at least won’t give her position away. There is a long moment of silence in the kitchen, and then the movement resumes, creeping into the dining room. They do not know the house layout, quietly searching-

The scrape of a chair as it is pulled out, and then a second. Thudding, as they sit down. Waiting. And then quietly-

“Catra,” Lonnie says, her voice strained. Her voice is so quiet Catra barely picks it out the syllables from this distance. She swallows, and then steps out to stand at the top of the stairs. The living room greets her. She takes a steadying breath and then creeps down the stairs silently. When she reaches the bottom, she can see out into the formal dining room.

Lonnie and Rogelio are sat at the side of the table, chairs pulled out haphazardly. Lonnie is hunched with her elbows on her knees, staring out to Catra, though she knows she cannot make her out in the utter darkness of the house at night, the blinds drawn over every window – except the one in the kitchen where the shutter was cut by the same tool that opened the window.

Lonnie can’t see her, but Rogelio can _smell_ her. He sits up, turning to look towards the stairs, eyes narrowing to squint at her in the dark. Lonnie, ever attuned to her partner, swallows but does not move. Even without the scent of her fear, Catra can see the worry in her hunched position. Lonnie is strapped, but not a single one of her weapons is drawn.

“Your initial offer still standing? We’re on a clock here,” Lonnie says, her voice _trying_ for even but shaking regardless. Catra swallows, her eyes darting between the pair. Lonnie’s heart is pounding, but Catra does not think it has anything to do with lying.

Carefully, she edges into the living room, into Rogelio’s range of vision and then into the hazy sphere of light refracting out from the open window. Lonnie blinks and squints at her outline, but she makes no move to pull a weapon. Rogelio does not either, but Catra doubts he even has one besides his claws.

“Why didn’t you call?” she asks them, her own voice rough. She keeps her volume low, like Lonnie is. She does not know if there are others outside of the house, and she does not want Adora to realize who is here and come out. She will trust them, but Catra doesn’t. Not yet. Lonnie throws her a wry smile.

“Hordak is having a meltdown. Leash wasn’t this tight on our first job. If we take too long, he is going to set them off so we can’t give information, but he wants to know we’re loyal. We don’t have long, Catra. We need to do this now,” Lonnie tells her. Catra swallows, continuing her path forward and only hesitating to place her gun on the kitchen counter as she passes it. If it is a trap, she still has her claws. If it isn’t, she _needs_ her claws.

Lonnie would know they don’t stand a chance against her without a trap. Catra knows that she just wants to _believe_ this is not one. Lonnie’s eyes are sad as she reaches the doorway into the formal dining room and halts again. Rogelio makes the first move, standing slowly. He does not take a step towards her – instead, he turns and kneels with his back to her, exposing his neck. Catra’s breath stutters.

“Rogelio first. He has someone to live for outside of the Horde. I only have you two. We don’t have _time_ , Catra,” Lonnie tells her, voice just a little bit pleading. Rogelio growls lowly, but he doesn’t protest further. Clearly they had this discussion already – knowing them, they had it multiple times on the way over. Lonnie does not move from where she is seated. Her fear is obvious, filling the room. Catra makes a decision.

“My love? Bring down the first aid kit,” Catra calls out, calls _up_ to Adora as she strides forward. Lonnie blinks, nearly startled – by the words or the sudden volume, it does not really matter. Not when she stays still as Catra strides forward to stand behind Rogelio, her claws flexing and throat working silently. She hears shuffling upstairs, the thudding of the cabinet in the bathroom, as she reaches a hand to feel along Rogelio’s neck in the dark.

“Get the light so I can see the scar. I make no promises, but I’m the best chance you have,” Catra tells Lonnie, not looking away from Rogelio’s neck. She knows where the scar _used_ to be, but in the darkness she can’t pick up the subtle line in Rogelio’s patterning. He has shed since the chip was implanted and the scar is less pronounced.

Lonnie nods to her side, standing and striding to the dining room wall, feeling along it. Catra squeezes her eyes shut as Lonnie flips the light. It hits her eyelids harshly, but she gives it a moment to adjust as she listens to Adora scrambling out into the hallway upstairs. She opens her eyes as Adora begins to make her way down the stairs.

“Catra? Are you alri-“ Adora starts to call, words coming to a sudden halt as she reaches the bottom of the stairs and no doubt catches sight of Lonnie. Catra’s back is to Lonnie, but she hears her step away from the wall until she re-enters her line of sight, coming to sit in the same seat as before. She is looking Adora’s way, throwing her an apologetic look. Catra knows she is getting out of her path, trying to seem non-threatening despite the three guns and four knives strapped across her.

“Hope you’re still as good at first-aid as you were back at Shadow’s,” Lonnie says, her voice uneven despite the attempt at levity. Catra can still smell Adora’s fear as she begins to move again, making her way into the dining room, but it is lingering. Adora is not scared now, not of Lonnie.

“We doing this?” Adora asks, all business as she enters the dining room. Her stride doesn’t break as she approaches the dining table and lays the med kit out on it, beginning to unpack it. Lonnie eyes Catra. Catra’s eyes have readjusted to the sudden light and she can make out the faint line on Rogelio’s neck now. It is to the side of his spine to accommodate his spike ridge. It makes this less risky, even with the uncertainty of the chip’s exact placement.

“I’m going to try for Rogelio’s. Don’t get near the chip if I get it out. There is a radius when it goes off. Once I finish with him, I need you to treat his neck while I get Lonnie’s. I won’t be able to help, but-“ Catra tells her, looking up to make eye contact with Adora. Adora’s hands are steady as she opens a package of disinfectant wipes, taking Catra’s hand in hers and quickly wiping off her claws, her mouth set in a grim line. When she is done, she turns back to unpacking the rest of the kit. It has been years, but they have been here before and _often_.

“-I know what to do,” she finishes for Catra. Catra nods, looking down again, and takes a steadying breath before she lines up her claws and stabs in, down, _right_. Her own neck is a mess. She could not see, but she could feel the line of scar tissue. The chip was not _there_ , though, off center from the scar. Maybe it shifted – maybe it was intentional. Her scars came from searching for it, from digging it out – and from a hundred nights afterwards, scrabbling at her neck in panic as she awoke with a start.

Rogelio releases a grunt of pain but does not even shift as her claw digs in. This close to his spike ridge there won’t be that many nerve endings, but Catra also hates the idea of being the one to cause him pain after treating his wounds so many times. Her heart hammers as she slips another claw forward into the cut and finds the hard edge. She swallows, the stench of blood hitting the air as she pinches the chip between her claws and pulls it through, gritting her teeth in time with Rogelio’s pained hiss.

The chip has been there a long time, it wants to _stay_ there, but Catra manages to extract it, flinging it aside to the far corner of the dining room. She still remembers the smell of electricity crackling in the pool of blood – she needs to make sure the chip is well outside of its radius. Adora is at her shoulder immediately, the rag from the kit stinking of disinfectant as she presses it against Rogelio’s neck harshly, trying to tamp down the flow. Catra slips around her to find Lonnie releasing a breath of relief as she slips from her seat to kneel.

“Thank you,” she whispers, before bowing her head. She needs to say it in case, Catra suspects.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she tells her as she lines her middle finger, a clean claw, up with Lonnie’s own scar, a pale line bold against her tan skin. Lonnie flinches when she slices, but she does not jolt. Catra feels no resistance, no hard edge. She readjusts her angle, angling less and cutting again. This time, her claw catches. She extracts the chip, tossing it away in the same direction as Rogelio’s.

Rogelio is panting lightly as Adora works at his neck with grim determination. She tosses Catra the blood-soaked towel without looking. Catra only takes the extra second of pouring fresh disinfectant on it from the open bottle before she is pressing it against Lonnie’s neck. Rogelio will be fine. A single cut, clean and small compared to his broad shoulders. Lizardfolk have a slow heartbeat, anyway.

Lonnie’s blood pulses beneath her hand, soaking into the towel as Catra relies on pressure tamping the flow. She reaches for the kit with her one free hand, getting the supplies to quickly slather the wound in antibiotic cream and then tape it shut. They will get her some oral antibiotics and hope that it does not get infected – Catra is more worried about her bleeding out _now_ than an infection.

It was what Catra had to do with her own neck, her wound long-frozen over from the snow she packed on it just to stop the flow and burning sensation. She was lucky it was night when she reached town, giving her cover to break into the local pharmacy even in her shaky state. She cleaned the outside of the wound, but she relied heavily on stolen antibiotic pills to keep an infection at bay.

The sound of crackling in the corner draws her attention just as she is about to lift the towel and set to work. She looks up as the chips crackle to life, electricity arching uselessly into the air from the other side of the room.

The sound is followed by a car pulling up outside the house – several cars. The security team is here.

\--

Juliet damn near breaks down the door while Adora calls that they are _fine_ , just take the time to open it normally. She has finished with Rogelio’s neck by then, taking over for Catra on Lonnie’s as the security team bursts into the house and draws to a halt at the sight of the two intruders on their knees, being _treated_.

Catra looks carefully blank, her movements a bit stiff. Adora does not blame her, not when she just had to hurt her friends. Lonnie’s wound is worse than Rogelio’s, multiple cuts before Catra found her chip. She is bleeding more and it seems to be scaring Catra. She has not killed in years – Adora is not going to let it happen again _now_. She sets about her work with determination as Juliet muscles into the room.

“We can’t risk taking them to the hospital. Have a guest room prepared. Two beds, but they will want to be with each other,” Adora instructs Juliet, not looking up from her work. Juliet tries to barge her way over and Catra stops her, stepping between her and Adora with raised hands, her claws still out and dripping with blood.

“Adora knows what she is doing. Let her finish,” Catra says. Adora can feel the tension in the room, Juliet and Catra no doubt having a stare down, but she does not look up from her work. The rest of the security team is spreading throughout the house, she can hear them checking for more intruders, but she does not look up.

She is glad Catra stopped Juliet. She knows Juliet’s instinct would be to treat this herself and take the duty off her hands, but she does not want Lonnie to have even a brief gap in attention. Lonnie has both hands braced on the chair she was sitting in to keep herself still and upright. Adora _wants_ to make sure the wound is properly cleaned, especially with Lonnie having the potential to be contaminated by Rogelio’s blood, but she is more concerned with her bleeding out at this point.

The wound will have to be cleaned enough. Adora tapes it shut, pressing a bandage over it and applying pressure again. She looks up, finally meeting Juliet’s eyes. Juliet looks surprised but unshaken as she restarts her approach. Now, Catra does not move to stop her from where she is applying pressure to Rogelio’s neck as Juliet approaches and silently takes over for Adora, applying pressure on the wound.

“Juliet,” she says, curtly, nodding down to Lonnie despite how Lonnie can’t see it. Lonnie lets out a shaky laugh beneath her.

“Lonnie. I’ve got some _shit_ to tell you,” she returns.

\--

Lonnie and Rogelio end up in a guest room under guard. It takes an hour before Lonnie’s head is not swimming from blood loss, the three medics on the security team descending on Lonnie and Rogelio once the immediate emergency care is done, but Lonnie points out the location of the Horde’s current base on Juliet’s phone and gives her a basic rundown of its layout before she passes out.

The information gets passed on to someone important in Nevada before the sun has risen. The raid will be before the sun has set. In the meantime, Adora and Catra don’t sleep. First they wait for Lonnie and Rogelio, but after the immediate danger is passed and they both fall unconscious, they end up huddled together in a guest room of the main house. The glass panel will be replaced by tonight, but until then Adora’s house will stand empty. Besides, they want to be close to their friends, and Angella just wants them _close_.

They are both exhausted, but neither of them will sleep until the raid is done. Adora lays on her back, Catra draped over her, scratching absently against her scalp. Catra is tired and drained enough she is just purring at the touch. Adora is staring up at the ceiling, eyes heavy, as Catra listens to the sounds of the house staff starting to stir life into the expansive building.

“You know, I spent a week slinking around casinos in Las Vegas once,” Catra muses, thinking about the Horde’s new location as she yawns and nudges into Adora’s hands. Adora makes a soft noise of surprise.

“Tell me about it?” she asks, caution around the edges of her exhaustion. Catra rarely volunteers information about her old life. She rarely even talks about her time bodyguarding, but that is mostly because it was boring. Most of her time with the Horde Catra does not want to remember – and she was terrified to mention _anything_ and give herself away for the longest time.

Even after she told Adora what she had done, she still feared that the gravity of it had not sunk in yet for Adora. She is not afraid of that anymore. She can tell how badly Adora wants to know – sometimes she asks, like with the dictator, but even when she doesn’t, Catra can see her perking up and absorbing any information she lets forward. She did it many times when they were working on the Prime paper trail.

“I had a target. Drug lord. She was a pharmaceutical executive, actually, distributing illegal opioids all over the West Coast. I don’t know who hired me, just that they wanted me to gather intel and then make it to seem like an accident,” Catra tells her. Adora doesn’t react, just makes a small noise of acknowledgement and shifts her hands to scratch behind Catra’s ears. Catra feels a purr burst forth despite the context of the conversation.

She nudges into Adora’s hands as she talks about the _fun_ parts of the job. Hanging out in casinos for a week, playing blackjack and listening to the conversation at the next table over. Following the target and discovering the hidden parts of the resort as she followed her to eavesdrop on private phone calls with distributers. Lounging in the hotel bar and eating sushi while she waited for the target to return from one such call. Eventually, an evening of flirting until she was invited back up to her private suite.

“Her room – Adora, I know luxury is kind of your _thing_ now, but I didn’t know places like that _existed_. Her suite had a _courtyard_ in the middle of it with a private pool. It was just her staying there but the suite was bigger than your entire house and all – I don’t know, Roman? Marble and columns everywhere. Ostentatious rich bullshit, but I was starry-eyed. I mean, it had only been two years since I was helping you steal basic medical supplies,” Catra explains, kneading against the bed to stop her hands from gesturing. It would shift her in Adora’s arms, and she doesn’t want that. She might tear the sheets, but part of _luxury_ is buying new ones.

Adora is actually smiling at her description, despite what Catra was there to do. “Stuff like that still makes me uncomfortable. When Angella offered me one of the houses last year, I purposefully picked the smallest one,” Adora offers, stroking through Catra’s mane for a moment before she returns to scratching. Catra butts her head up into the touch.

“I don’t know how anyone can be comfortable there. She took me on a tour and there was a spa in one of the _vestibules_. She was so fucking smug about my reaction to all the luxury. I tried to make it seem like awe, but it infuriated me for her to have _all that_ and be so proud to flaunt it,” Catra explains. Adora nods, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. Catra used to go on rants about the few rich kids who went to their school. They were all _assholes_ , especially to the ragtag foster kids.

“I thought about you a lot while I was there,” Catra admits, quietly, tucking her face into Adora’s chest so she does not have to see her reaction. Adora makes a soft, questioning noise. Her hands still their petting for a moment, but when Catra growls in response she resumes again.

“I was in all this luxury, thinking about how the money this suite cost was enough to set someone for life, and I got angry thinking about how this woman who was exploiting people and just an _asshole_ had all that while you – in my head, at least – were probably struggling to get by after aging out of the home,” Catra explains, rubbing her face against Adora’s skin, comforting herself with her warmth. Adora’s heartbeat is steady, reassuring.

“At that point, I was living in the guest room next to Angella’s master. I would have just started college,” Adora tells her, quietly. An assurance, years too late, but Catra accepts it with a nod against her chest. She is kind of buried in Adora’s tits again, but they are _soft_ and Adora is not saying anything, so she lets herself have it. Adora isn’t wearing a bra right now – they are both still wearing the clothes they first fell asleep in - but her scent is more intense here from her bra trapping it all day. It is comforting.

“She misinterpreted my reaction to all the tubs and spas. She invited me to go skinny-dipping in the pool. I don’t think she even accounted for the _fur_ aspect. She just wanted to show off, but she sent all her guards away so they wouldn’t see her, so I took the opportunity. Spent a week trying to wash the chlorine scent out of my fur, and slipping away afterwards was a bitch, but I was done with it,” Catra explains. Despite the confession, Adora still scratches behind her ears. Catra chances a glance up to her.

Adora is looking down at her with concern, but her expression softens the moment their eyes meet. Catra feels her ears twitch, a blush rising despite herself at being the focus of Adora’s attention. One of Adora’s hands slips down from scratching at her ears, moving to cup her cheek instead. Catra feels herself melt under the touch, nuzzling into it despite herself.

“I thought of you all the time, you know. Things would happen on jobs and I would think about what your reaction to it would be if you were there, or what you would say if I told you,” Catra tells her, letting her eyes slip closed as she leans into her hand. Adora releases a soft breath, her other hand sliding down now so she is fully framing Catra’s face.

Adora leans forward, kissing her with an utter _gentleness_ that would imply Catra is made of glass, or maybe snow, threatening to melt from the heat of Adora’s lips alone. Catra mewls softly against her, nudging in closer but doing nothing to deepen the kiss that is somehow reaching into her _heart_. Adora doesn’t pull back, not really – when the kiss stops, there is at most a centimeter between them.

“Remember when you first got here and you asked me why all my shirts were sleeveless?” Adora asks, her voice quiet. Catra feels herself frown, opening her eyes to squint at Adora in confusion despite their proximity. She does not know how Adora went from a kiss like _that_ to her stupid impulse to show off her muscles that absolutely does _not_ work on Catra. She still nods. Adora’s eyes are soft, sad, a bit melancholy.

“I needed to see the scratches on my arms. You- Catra, you didn’t _exist_. At first I would call Kyle just to share old stories, but it was clear how much it hurt him to remember. It hurt me too, but I needed to do it. The scars were the only- It was all I had left of you,” Adora tells her, voice rough despite the quiet breathiness of it. Catra can hear how tight her throat must be. Hers is too, processing that confession.

Catra swallows, pulling back to settle straddled over Adora’s hips. Adora watches her go, obviously trying stamp down on her distress. It eases at least when Catra stops moving back and settles. Catra turns her eyes down towards Adora’s left arm.

A thin line, a little lighter than the rest of Adora’s pale skin, from when Catra grabbed her wrist while her claws were out in excitement. Catra reaches down, twining her fingers with Adora’s, and then pulls her arm up so she can press a kiss against the thin line. Adora’s breath catches, the sound watery, but Catra only lets her eyes travel a few inches up to find the next mark.

Discoloured skin in a round puncture from when Catra was teething as her adult fangs grew in. She was not allowed to use any of the chew toys in the home – they were cheap, and Shadow said she would have bit through and ruined them. It was true, but it would have at least offered her a brief moment of relief. Catra nuzzles up to the mark, pressing another soft kiss to it.

She can smell salt on the air. Adora is crying, tears silent and breathing uneven, the muscles of her arm flexing beneath Catra’s lips. Adora strains, but she stays still, silently encouraging Catra. Catra continues like that – to a half-crescent shape from when a claw dug in, to another two pinpricks from her teething, to another scratch, this one long and bold against her skin.

Adora does not have many scars from her, but now she knows Adora cherished each one. Catra returns the devotion, pressing kisses to the marks on both arms, and then to the four lines slashed down the bridge of her nose. Adora is shaking slightly by then, nudging up into it, so Catra shifts to kiss her mouth, trying to kiss her in that same soft, careful way Adora had kissed her before.

“I was so scared, in the closet, that I was going to lose you while I was _cowering_ ,” Adora manages when Catra pulls back, tears barely restrained. Catra leans up, pressing a kiss near the corner of each eye. Adora closed them while Catra was kissing up her arms, no doubt to focus on the sensation. Or maybe it was just overwhelming.

“I’m here,” she assures her. Usually Adora is the one who says it, but – Adora lost her, too. Adora lets out a small sob. Catra swallows. “Let it out, Adora. Like you did for me. I’m here. I love you. Always,” Catra promises her.

Adora breaks. Catra is not used to putting things back together, but for Adora, she will try.

\--

Adora ducks into the guest shower, just because she knows she has to stink like salt. Catra doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t want Rogelio to pick it up when they visit him. Catra settles on the floor, curled up in a ball and leaned against the glass wall into the shower, watching her with tired eyes as she washes away the salt, the lingering sweat from her fear, the scent of blood she _knows_ is not real – or if it is, she cannot pick it up with _her_ senses, at least.

She does not take long. She is still shaky from her crying session, letting out the fear of the night - and of the last few weeks - that she would lose Catra all over again. She mourned her for years. She thought she wouldn’t need tears now that she _had_ her again, but apparently she is a hypocrite. When she steps out of the shower, Catra wraps her in a fluffy towel and kisses her nose. It makes Adora giggle, hormones still running a bit.

She tries to wrap Catra in a soaking hug as a joke and Catra dodges, smirking. Adora dries herself off, slipping into a bathrobe, and Catra lets her when she tries again - when she backs her up against the bathroom wall and kisses her, soft but insistent, reminding them both that they are here now, in each other’s arms. She whispers “I love you” between damn near every kiss and Catra whispers it back nearly every time. Sometimes Adora kisses her again too quickly for her to reply. Sometimes Catra whaps her with her tail when she cuts her off.

Eventually, Adora puts back on her clothes from the night before, wrinkling her nose a little as she does it. It feels wrong to put on dirty clothes after getting clean, even if she had not used any soap or shampoo since her unscented products are back in her house, but her clean clothes are _also_ back in her house. The house staff are still replacing the window and trying to clean the scorch marks out of the dining room. They probably won’t be successful and she will have to do some minor repairs there, but Adora has yet to use the room _once_ , so she does not particularly care.

She would not care if she used the room either, not knowing Lonnie and Rogelio are okay. When she is dressed again, she takes Catra’s hand and they go to visit them. They are both still asleep, a second guest bed pulled into the room so they can be within eyeshot of each other. Adora knows Lonnie and Rogelio did not have a bond like her and Catra’s, but they still had _a_ bond, however different, and she is fairly confident she made the right call on giving them one room to share. No one had protested at the time, and she thinks Catra would have stopped her if she did not agree.

They settle on a lounge in the guest room, Catra curled in her lap with her face buried in her neck while Adora checks her phone, anxious for news about the raid that should be beginning soon, if not already begun. There won’t be any updates until it is complete, but she still watches her phone.

Having her phone in her hand reminds her of her conversation with Catra earlier. She could wait for Lonnie or Rogelio to wake up – but she also thinks _she_ might be the one most qualified to make this call. She chews on her lip, regarding her phone with indecision.

“Catra?” she prompts, softly, dropping a hand to the back of Catra’s neck and squeezing. Catra flicks an ear in acknowledgement. Despite her soft rumbling, she is not asleep, just tired and content. Adora bites her lip. “You told me before, but – why didn’t you ever try to find me after you got out?” Adora asks, softly. Catra _told_ her - but she also didn’t tell her the truth. Not all of it.

Catra tenses for a moment before she eases again with a sigh. “I thought you would hate me when you realized what I had done. I couldn’t take having you again and losing you. And I was selfish. I wanted you to still love the old me, at least. I loved you, and I did not want to see the look in your eyes when everything we used to have was tainted for you,” Catra says, her voice soft. Adora starts to make a noise, but Catra cuts her off.

“You love me. I know, Adora. But that is what I thought then. I wasn’t sure if the Horde would come for me at first, either. I wasn’t going to bring them into your life and let you get hurt,” Catra tells her, nuzzling into her neck and going a bit limp. She wants the conversation to be over. Adora nods, shifting the hand on the back of her neck up to stroke through her hair, hoping to reassure her.

It seems to work. Catra’s gentle rumbling returns, at least. Adora had not asked before because she did not want to bring it up again, but she also needed to know. And now she knows, she also knows that Lonnie and Rogelio don’t _get_ to make this decision. She does not want to strip any more of their agency from them than has already been taken, but they are not the only ones who have suffered at the hands of the Horde.

She pulls up her contacts and selects one she has not dialed in years. Catra’s ears twitch when ringing begins to echo down Adora’s phone. Her tail curls, uncertain, as Adora raises the phone to her ear and waits for the ringing to finish, for the other end of the line to hopefully be picked up.

“Uh, hi, Adora?” Kyle says, sounding uncertain. Adora is kind of surprised he even still has her contact. He never called her, it was always Adora reaching out. She kept an eye on him, even after she decided to stop hurting him with memories just to assure herself. She knows he is still working at the same accounting firm he got hired at straight out of his certification.

Catra’s ears twitch at the familiar voice and she sits up, looking at Adora with wide eyes and swallowing. Adora opens her mouth to reply, but Catra cuts her off, reaching for the phone. For a moment, Adora thinks she might _hang it up_ , but instead, Catra takes a deep breath and hits speaker phone.

“Not just Adora. Hey, Kyle,” Catra says, her voice rough and uneven. There is a moment of silence at the other end. Kyle has never heard Catra’s voice over the phone – actually, neither has Adora, either – and Catra’s voice has matured in her time away, a bit deeper and rougher. Kyle might not remember it well enough to _notice_ those differences though – he also might not remember it at all.

“Catra?” Kyle asks, his voice a little strangled. Catra actually smiles, her eyes soft and a little sad.

“Rogelio and Lonnie are asleep, or they would say hi, too,” Catra tells him, her voice quiet.

On the other end of the line, there is a sob.

\--

Juliet comes in to tell them the raid was successful as Catra is changing the bandage on Rogelio’s neck. Lonnie is awake, too, somehow managing to _hover_ despite being on the other side of the room and barely having enough strength to sit leaned up against the wall. She lost a lot blood, and her body went through trauma in the chip extraction, not to mention the mental stress. She will make it, though - they both will.

There were casualties, on both sides, but the number is less than _hers_. Hordak set off a few chips when he saw the way things were going, but Octavia apparently stopped him. It was entirely self-preservation – even the captains had chips, after all – but it saved others, too. Lonnie agrees to write up a report for Juliet on everything she knows, every operative name she can list, so they can know what they have missed, but aside from a few operatives out on missions, the Horde should be _done_.

Hordak is in custody. A looming figure darker than Shadow herself, hanging over them their entire lives, and someone else takes him down from the other side of the country. All it took was not running, all it took was telling Adora, all it took was Lonnie finding the strength to stand up to Hordak – it took a _lot_ , but they are here now. Catra finishes changing Rogelio’s bandage in a bit of a daze over the news. When Juliet leaves, Lonnie eyes Catra from across the room.

“So,” she says in a way that causes Catra to narrow her eyes. She says it in a way that only ever proceeds things Catra does not want her to say. “ _My love_ , huh, Cat?” she asks, smirking like an _asshole_. Catra looks up from where she is pulling Rogelio's _five_ blankets back over him to glare at her. Lizardfolk run cold anyway, but after the blood loss Rogelio needs extra help maintaining his body temperature. He still eyes her from under his mountain of blankets as her tail lashes and she tries to force down the blush that wants to come out.

“It’s a codeword,” she grits out as she crosses to the trash can to throw out the old, bloody bandages. Lonnie looks incredibly unimpressed. Catra narrows her eyes at her. “What, would _you_ have expected me to call Adora that? If I didn’t say it, she was supposed to stay hidden,” Catra argues, gesturing to Lonnie in her disbelief. There is no _way_ Lonnie would have anticipated Catra saying something that sappy.

Lonnie snorts, rolling her eyes, but some of the fight goes out of her. “Maybe not expected, but I caught you two making out when you were _thirteen_. You can’t fool me it is _just_ code,” Lonnie points out. Catra feels her blush blaze, her fight against it lost.

“So you _did_ wake up,” Adora pipes up, finally, instead of saying something like _we weren’t making out_. Lonnie laughs at Catra’s somewhat dumbstruck expression, but she nods to Adora. Catra looks to Adora to find her totally unembarrassed or ashamed. She brightens when she catches Catra’s eye, reaching towards her happily.

Catra swallows, but she crosses the room and climbs in her lap, purring almost immediately. Adora grins happily, wrapping Catra up in her arms and pressing a kiss to the base of her ear. “I love you,” Adora says, despite the fucking audience.

“I love you, too,” Catra responds, voice soft, cheeks blazing, despite _herself_. Lonnie makes entirely realistic retching noises in the background.

\--

Walking back into her own house should not be so _weird_. Adora hesitates inside the front door, gaze darting into the dining room before she continues her path. Catra is at her shoulder and Juliet’s team only just finished sweeping the building. It is safe, it does not feel like it is not, but it all feels _surreal_. Surreal to be back here after the day up at the house, surreal to joke with Lonnie again after seven years, surreal to know but not have quite _accepted_ that Hordak is just gone, no longer a threat.

Adora stops in the doorway to the master bedroom. It is largely how they left it, though the bottom drawer of the dresser is closed now. She knows the security team stowed Catra’s guns back inside. Adora takes a breath and makes her way into the closet, glaring at the gowns she had crouched behind to hide from view. She turns back to Catra, determination setting her features.

“I want to move the rest of your things out of the guest room,” she tells Catra. Catra asked to move some of her things in a week ago, and they had done it at the start of the week. There was still plenty in the guest room, Catra was even still using that shower despite having moved her toothbrush into their bathroom, but Adora had not wanted to push her.

Catra always needed her space, wanted her own territory but never _had_ it. If she had wanted to permanently keep the space Adora would have happily given it to her. She can still have it. But Adora wants her _here_ now, too. And she wants other things to not be here. Catra pauses, raising an eyebrow and glancing around the closet.

“There isn’t room,” she points out. That is _true_ , at least where the closet is concerned, but that is also part of Adora’s motivation.

“There is if we move the pointless formal wear I never use into the guest closet. And then the things you use every day are _here_ and you don’t have to walk over there in the mornings. You already steal my clothes to avoid the walk half the time anyway,” Adora explains, gesturing to the gowns. Catra pauses, but her gaze softens before she looks Adora’s way.

“Okay, we can move the rest of my stuff, but you’re going to lose shower space to my products. And you’re going to have to live with fur trapped in the drain,” she warns, voice warm and affectionate as she sidles up to wrap her arms around Adora’s waist. Adora lets out a shaking breath, her own arms coming up to wrap around Catra in return.

“Catra, I already live with your fur in my _mouth_. I think I can handle the shower,” Adora points out, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead to prove a point. Catra growls, flustered, but she just rolls her eyes when Adora pulls back to look down at her with a clear _well?_ look.

“You know the solution to that,” she points out. _Adora_ could growl now, glowering down at Catra. The _solution_ to that is not to kiss her, at least not anywhere but on her mouth, which is _ridiculous_. Adora does not _need_ a solution. Yeah, she has to pick fur off her tongue occasionally, but she had to do that just living in proximity to her anyway.

Adora will _show_ her what a stupid idea that is, picking her up and earning a startled squeak as Catra scrambles to wrap her legs around her despite how Adora can carry her easily without the assistance - usually, anyway. Right now, she is tired enough that she is glad for the help. She deposits Catra on the bed, awkwardness about the house forgotten as she sets about kissing down her neck, hands rucking up her sleep shirt so she can bunch it up and kiss down her torso too.

They have both been run ragged, up all day after only a few hours of sleep, stress and fear hanging over them as they waited for news. They both need sleep, but they also both need this: to give and have affection without the fear that the other will be taken away from them again. Catra sinks into the sheets beneath her, tugging her up onto the bed proper with her and kissing her whenever her path of kisses brings her close to her face again. Adora keeps going until she is too tired to do more than nuzzle into the soft fur of Catra's stomach, pillowing her head there as Catra purrs quietly beneath her.

For the first time in their lives, they fall asleep without a shadow hanging over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people wanted a grand confrontation, or Catra fighting Hordak herself, but one of my big points with this fic is when you reach out for support or acceptance you can _find_ it. I said this during 'catcher', but most people don't escape abuse in a grand fight. They do it by standing up for themselves - whether that means leaving, or seeking support from friends, or pursing legal recourse. Catra had to do all three to escape the Horde.  
> Next chapter is the epilogue to Act I, and then we will be moving into ACT II: SWORD.


	14. ACT I: Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knows where, and how, and who now.  
> But she doesn't know why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be shorter but then Adora got horny so you're welcome, I guess.

While she wouldn’t say it to _some_ people, Catra is not too ashamed to say she and Adora spent a significant part of the weekend having sex. A danger that had been ever-present their entire lives was passed, a recently-intense fear over, and with that source of anxiety gone they both _needed_ – needed to assure themselves, needed to know the other in every way they could, needed to be close until there was no way to be closer.

Besides, they couldn’t go _out_ \- Adora was still banned from going in public. There were a half-dozen Horde operatives out on jobs that needed to tracked down, the operatives that _were_ already detained at risk of escaping while at the hospital to get their chips removed, and there was still the Skell matter to deal with. Luckily, by Monday Hordak’s encryption was broken and the records he kept were more than enough to arrest Skell, too.

The news was waiting for them when they woke up, Skell going to be arrested over breakfast. They will be calling Entrapta to let her know she can leave lockdown as soon as they get into work – if they ever manage to get there.

“Adora, it has only been-“ Catra cuts off, looking to the microwave’s clock over Adora’s shoulder and trying to do quick math. It is not all that fast. She never graduated high school and Adora’s hands on her tail, lips against her neck, are _distracting_. “-nine _hours_. We need to get dressed for work-“

She cuts off again when Adora’s hand slips up from stroking her tail to grind against its base at her lower back, making her hips stutter forward in a way that would threaten to buck her off the kitchen counter if Adora was not standing between her legs, pinning her there, giving her something to grind _against_ as she rolls her hips forward completely instinctually, mind blanking for a moment from sudden desperation.

“I’m working on undressed right now, actually,” Adora says, entirely fucking _smug_ , grinning up at her as her hand returns to stroking Catra’s tail, a touch that normally does not affect her like this, but it does _now_ , knowing how easy it is for Adora to slip her hand up and make her toes curl. Catra feels herself swallow, staring down at Adora, unused to be taller than her lover. Their hips are still pressed together.

“You have a meeting,” she manages, but she can hear the desire in her own voice. She can’t stamp it down, not when she is already using all her willpower to hold her hips back. Adora has been handsy and teasing all morning, but after breakfast she pinned her to the counter and then put her _on_ it. Catra is having trouble thinking about anything but Adora’s hands on her after all the teasing. Adora raises an eyebrow, her hand moving again-

Catra mewls, gasping as she grinds forward against Adora, heat spiking liquid hot in her core. Then Adora drops her hand and leaves her a panting, whimpering mess, her hips twitching forward, trying to get friction. They are still _dressed_ – in their sleep clothes, but still – and Catra’s entire body feels hot with her desire.

“Since when did you care about being responsible?” Adora asks, tone teasing as she slides her other hand up Catra’s thigh, fingertips slipping beneath the leg of her shorts. After the utter _heat_ Adora summoned touching her back, the ghost of a touch should not work her up, but she whines and shifts, trying to bring Adora’s hand closer to where she _needs_ it.

“If Juliet- storms in here and- catches us-“ Catra keeps having to cut off, because Adora has tensed her abs now, giving Catra something _real_ to grind against as she pants, far too desperate for _seven in the fucking morning_. Adora is smirking, leaning forward - _closer,_ giving Catra more friction – to whisper into her ear.

“Can I fuck you on the kitchen counter, Catra? It won’t _take long_ ,” Adora asks, teases, and Catra would question where she got this confidence from if she didn’t know it was from _her_ , from the way she desperately whines, moans, and grinds, wordlessly begging for anything Adora will give her.

Catra growls, but she does not stop rolling her hips. Adora is _right_ , and after the past weekend she knows enough to recognize that – knows how worked up Catra is already, how she is dripping in her shorts, desperate for _release_. She won’t have time to return the favour, and she can smell Adora’s own desire, but she knows Adora is more than happy to _wait_.

“ _Please_ , Adora,” Catra breaks, clutching at Adora’s shoulders. Her claws are out, and in her heated state it is hard to be _mindful_ , but she manages to retract them, mostly. Adora’s hands are on her as soon as she grants her permission, the one from her thigh snaking between them to work her clit over the front of her shorts, the other sliding to work against the base of her tail with a _fever_. It is too much, overstimulating, _perfect_ as she desperately wraps around Adora, hips working back and forth between the two touches, toes curling and tail wrapping around Adora’s waist, holding her close as the need spikes through her, overheating her and driving her closer to the edge.

It is so _much_ she never wants it to end, never thinks it _could_ end, too intense for her body to process as she shakes in Adora’s arms. She is crying out, she realizes, desperate _ahs_ and _Adoras_ as she buries her face in her neck. Her fur is standing on end, puffing from the intensity of the _heat_. She tries to breathe in Adora’s scent, to calm herself even as she sinks into the heat, but it is not enough _relief_.

She bites, harsh and desperate, latching onto the side of Adora’s neck for something to hold _onto_. Biting always helps when she is worked up, some deep instinct she has, and it helps now – or maybe that is just the sound of Adora crying out in pleasure in response. It is enough for that mounting, building, _cresting_ burn to take over her body, heat flooding through her limbs as her entire body locks.

She thinks she screams. She is not sure. It feels like all her muscles are working towards the relief of contractions in her core, of her hips twitching forward into Adora’s touch as the heat finally begins to retreat from her limbs. When she can think again, she slowly releases Adora’s neck. She licks at it weakly, a shitty apology for the blood spots welling beneath the surface of her skin where her fangs dug in, but Adora’s breath turns uneven.

The hand that _was_ tormenting her lower back, getting them in this mess in the first place, now strokes down her spine soothingly. “I’ve got you, Catra,” Adora assures. Her own voice is shaking a little, but she is clearly trying to be steady. She extricates the hand that is pinned between them, wrapping it around Catra's waist to hold their bodies against each other as Catra goes _limp_ , quivering from her aftershocks rolling through her.

Catra manages a weak whimper, still nudging against Adora’s neck in apology. The scent of sex is _strong_ , it isn’t helping her come back to herself, but she suddenly realizes Adora’s scent has changed, her skin warm with a sheen of sweat that Catra had not noticed in the throes of her orgasm.

“Did you-“ she _starts_ to ask, but Adora does not give her the chance to.

“Yes. When you bit me,” she replies, hastily, embarrassment _evident_. Catra’s breathing stutters – not that it was back to normal _anyway_ – and she gathers the strength to sit up on her own and observe her lover. Adora is flushed up to her ears and then back down her shoulders, biting her lip and looking away, cheeks absolutely blazing. She looks embarrassed, definitely, but she seems more _nervous_ than anything else.

Catra is purring. She has probably been purring since she came – she does that – but it definitely gets _louder_. “That’s fucking hot,” she says, because it _is_. Not that Catra did not _know_ that Adora liked her fangs, that became obvious the first time she bit her while they were making out, but she did not know Adora liked them at a _getting off without being touched_ level.

Adora is still flushed, but the concern and embarrassment fade away. She rolls her eyes and pulls Catra back in. Catra slouches against her shoulder readily, returning to nuzzle at the _dark_ marks she has left. It is going to be a challenge for Adora to cover these, even with her concealer. Catra licks against the marks a few more times, apologetic again, before switching to soft kisses.

“We’re going to be late, you know,” Adora reminds, voice _smug_. Smug, because she knows that Catra no longer _gives a shit_. Catra growls even through her purr. She curls around Adora, clinging to her again as she rubs her face against her neck, marking her, _reveling_ in her.

“Shut the fuck up, Adora,” Catra returns. Adora laughs, but pulls her close.

\--

Adora makes absolutely no apologies when they come into work nearly _an hour_ late. Well, she makes one, but it is more like an excuse.

“I nearly got assassinated this weekend,” she points out, with a raised eyebrow, as Glimmer _stares_ at her, her gaze burning. Adora and Catra have both showered – though Catra says they still smell a bit like sex – but the marks on Adora’s neck that refused to be fully covered are as obvious as her smile that still is not _totally_ faded. It is all too clear what happened, at least to the people who know her.

“And that forced you to have sex on a Monday morning?” Glimmer returns. Catra makes a choked off noise in her throat from where she is standing a few feet away, her stance wide and arms behind her back, pretty much default bodyguard, except it is just the two of them in Glimmer’s office. Probably it is some kind of attempt to remain professional knowing _this_ conversation was coming. At least Bow isn’t here, off helping Juliet with general security, but after the weekend Angella is not likely to let Adora be alone for at least a _week_. Adora is fine with that. When the company is Catra, it can be goddamn constant.

“Leftover adrenaline,” Adora returns, still utterly shameless. Glimmer flushes herself, apparently not expecting Adora to be so _candid_ about the fact that yes, she did just come in late to work because she was having sex. She at least texted they were running late before they hopped in the shower. Catra’s back is to them, but Adora recognizes the flick of her tail as the _I’ll kill you if you say another word_ one.

“Adora,” Glimmer hisses, looking at her with utter disbelief. She missed her call with Entrapta completely. Glimmer had to take it over for her. Angella won’t yell at her for it, not after the panic of the weekend, and not when she no doubt heard word of _why_ as soon as Adora walked into work, but Glimmer has no such qualms. “I know you never thought about this stuff before, so you’re _repressed_ or whatever, but _before work_?” Glimmer asks.

Adora and Catra both stifle snorts of laughter. Okay, maybe Adora is _repressed_ , but she _certainly_ thought about it before. “Glimmer, I never wanted anyone but Catra. I have her again. I’m not sorry for getting caught up,” Adora returns. Glimmer is blushing as Catra gives a pointed _shut up_ cough. Her tail is twitching in the way that means she is suppressing lashing, but Adora can tell it is embarrassment and not true irritation. Adora throws a winning smile to her back, because she has to regardless of if she can see it.

“Why do I ever try arguing with you? You’re impossible,” Glimmer returns, sinking back in her chair and still looking a bit embarrassed as she _processes_. Adora raises a pointed eyebrow at her.

“Have you _met_ yourself?” Adora asks, because apparently stubbornness runs in the family. Adora knows she can be absolutely immovable when she sets her mind to something, but at least she always does it for a reason. Sometimes Glimmer just does it out of _spite_. The corner of Glimmer’s mouth quirks up. She opens her mouth to reply-

“Bow is coming,” Catra warns, softly. Adora immediately throws Glimmer a desperate look.

“Can we be done talking about my sex life, please? It’s _private_ ,” Adora says. Glimmers snorts, but she waves her hand in a dismissive _yes fine_ gesture. She is not done making fun of Adora for this, definitely, but Adora suspects that unless they get caught having sex in her office, Glimmer is going to maintain this as Adora’s embarrassing sex story. If only Adora was _embarrassed_ by it. She had woken up with Catra squirming in her arms. She may have been innocently scent-rolling in the sheets – and on Adora – but it had woken up a hunger in Adora to have her writhing.

On the few occasions she would torture herself with imagining Catra was a part of her life again, a ghost hanging over her shoulder as she got ready in her empty house in the mornings, the thought occurred to her of Catra in a pair of boxer shorts and one of Adora’s shirts, oversized and slipping off her shoulders, settled on the kitchen counter while Adora finally kissed her. Catra had looked damn near identical in the kitchen that morning and Adora couldn’t _stop_ , in awe that she finally _had_ this. She feels no shame over it.

She is glad for Bow’s return, though, if only to end the conversation for Catra’s benefit. Glimmer seems to be willing to let her lateness go, for the moment, debriefing her on the meeting with Entrapta that Adora was actually scheduled to be debriefing _her_ on at the moment. Despite lockdown no longer being necessary, Glimmer had actually failed to convince her to leave it quite yet – apparently she was on the verge of a breakthrough and thought returning to normal business would distract her.

Adora rolls her eyes, but she is not all that surprised. Entrapta would leave her house again when her newest design was up and running. Besides, she and Scorpia seemed to be bonding.

When the meeting comes to an end and she stands to go, Glimmer looks to her with a sigh that brings her to a halt. “Mercia’s funeral is going to be this weekend. Angella wanted me to ask you about sending condolences, since you knew Mermista best,” Glimmer says.

Well, that thoroughly ruins the rest of her day. Adora swallows, and nods. “I’ll write something up,” she agrees. Catra slips up to her side, taking her hand carefully, like she wants to treat Adora with care, and then leads her out of the room and back to the privacy of her own office. Once there – once the room has been swept and Adora has pulled up her computer to stare at a blank document – Catra climbs into her lap without question, resting her head on her shoulder and purring softly to ease her. It helps.

\--

It takes nearly a week of bureaucratic nightmare shit that Catra understands none of the details of when Adora relays the current stage of it to her, but Prime Industries is legally dismantled and dissolved, its operators behind bars. The chips help track down the remaining Horde operatives, and are extracted from the captured ones.

Lonnie and Rogelio are moved to a small, shared apartment in Jersey, quietly paid for by Angella while they find their footing in society again. They are only twenty minutes from Kyle’s place. Catra and Adora will go to visit them, eventually, but right now they are readjusting to life on the outside, and Catra is confident that Kyle, even as uninformed as he is, will reach out if they struggle too much with the change.

After the gala, there was a very firm ban on takeout for any of the Queens or their bodyguards. Now, however, the danger is passed. On Friday, Catra takes Adora on the first thing you could really call a date between them – at least since high school and they actually started _dating_. It is brief, and small.

They stop at Madame Razz’s Tea Emporium on the way home from work. Adora takes her hand when they get out of the car, and she lets Catra open the door to the small shop without complaint. Razz’s is busy, a lot of the little tables occupied by couples and single people desperately looking to decompress after work, but it has the soft buzz of public place where people speak in calm tones and are mindful of those around them.

As they wait in line, Adora slips the hand that was holding hers around her waist instead. Catra leans into her side gladly, though she keeps her eyes open, mindful of their surroundings. Adora orders for them when they reach the counter, far more familiar with the menu than Catra is, and they settle at a corner booth where Catra can watch all the entrances and exits while they wait for their teas and whatever pastries Adora got to arrive.

It is lovely – it is _surreal_. She has spent plenty of time with Adora these last two months – nearly every waking moment, truthfully – but never really somewhere she had pictured them being before all this, with the possible exception of the mall. Then, she was still reeling from all the newness, still unsure of Adora’s love and herself, and she had not let herself truly soak it in and enjoy it like she is now.

Not that she ever could have pictured them at Madame Razz’s specifically, but she had pictured coffee shop dates like this one when she fantasized about a time where they could finally be together. She was never so delusional as to picture them owning a house together, sure they would never be able to afford something like that. She never pictured Adora as a high-powered executive, or either of them working in an office, truthfully.

She never pictured hikes in mountains, or family dinners in expansive dining halls – but she did picture this, just the two of them, in their own little world with each other while they waited for their drinks to be ready. Adora holds her hand over the table, and they have an epic kicking match with each other _under_ the table as well. Adora looks at her with open, shining love, words totally unnecessary as they sip their drinks and split a large almond pastry when it arrives.

It is everything she pictured and more, _with_ more than she ever dared to dream around it. She realizes that for the first time, she is not waiting. Waiting for when they are safe, waiting for when she is free, waiting to be left, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for a time when it is possible to be happy.

Catra realizes, for the first time, that she is happy – and she is happy right where she is, without need to hope for a better future.

\--

Adora is feeling an odd kind of _soft_ after their date, a little floaty. She is happy and content, but it is _more_ too, an easy peace pouring through her. Maybe this is just what it feels like to not be constantly anxious. She does not know, she just knows it gets kind of hard to breathe whenever Catra takes a step away from her.

Maybe she is just being _needy_ , but she makes an executive decision after they finish changing into loungewear from their suits. When Catra goes to walk out of the closet, Adora stops her, coming up behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. She kisses the side of her face, her neck, her shoulder, and then she shifts her grip to guide them both to the bed.

Catra seems relaxed, perfectly content to let Adora lay them out on their sides, cuddled together. She presses soft kisses along any part of her she can reach, just feeling _happy_ and wanting to show Catra, to have her know how much she cares. A single date should not have her feeling this _much_ , maybe, but there were so many times when she wanted this, and it was something she thought it would be impossible to have for so many years.

Eventually, the skin available for her to kiss isn’t _enough_ , and she carefully pushes Catra onto her back and kisses down her chest, pulling up her shirt and then discarding it when she makes eye contact with Catra and she nods, flushing and her ears twitching. Adora returns to nuzzling into her chest, lavishing kisses down the stripes on her ribs and along the hidden lines of her muscles, standing out as Catra wriggles beneath her.

Adora can’t help but grin against her skin for a moment at the downright _cute_ wiggling before shifting to press kisses down the decadently soft fur trail running into the waistband of her joggers. Catra gasps, one of her hands moving to bury in Adora’s hair, but she is in no way pushing her _away_ , tugging at her hair and whining softly as Adora nuzzles into her stomach.

“You’ve gotten so _soft_ ,” Adora says, a bit nonsensically, pressing a kiss just beneath her navel. Hard muscles jump beneath her lips, but delicate fur covers them. She thinks Catra would have been insulted in the past to be called soft, even in reference to her fur, but now she just huffs. Catra strokes her fingers through Adora's hair a little where she has her hand threaded through it. Adora smiles, leaning into the touch even as she continues her path of kisses. She isn’t actually _going_ anywhere, but she is pretty sure she will find a destination regardless.

“Wasn’t getting proper nutrition for my coat at Shadow’s, it turns out. Shocking, I know,” Catra tells her, squirming and releasing a soft noise – not _quite_ a moan – beneath the affection. Adora glances up again and finds Catra flushed, her tail curled around her own leg to stop it whipping back and forth. Catra quickly looks away, clearly embarrassed. Adora does not need Catra’s senses to realize why.

She hadn’t really been thinking about where she was kissing, but she is _now_. She pauses before she nuzzles in again, kissing her way back up Catra’s chest. Catra untenses a little – her tail uncoils, anyway – but she makes a soft noise Adora easily reads as _disappointment_. At least until Adora kisses her way up high enough and presses a kiss against her nipple.

Catra gasps, arching up into the touch. Adora is all-too happy to latch on and lavish her tongue against her, one of her hands coming down now to feel her through the front of her pants. Catra moans softly, rolling her hips down, her breath coming fast as Adora picks up the pressure upon the obvious approval. There is only so much she can do through the pants, however.

“Can I take these off?” Adora asks, finally releasing Catra’s chest. Catra nods, hastily, her own hands coming down to shove aside her waistband, eager for Adora to actually touch her. Adora helps her remove them, Catra kicking them aside once they reach her ankles. She is totally naked, splayed out beneath Adora, and it may be a sight she has been seeing for awhile now, but it still damn near takes her breath away.

Catra preens under the attention, smug and content, but she can _have_ it, because- “You are the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen,” Adora says, the thought a little too loud to be held _back_. Catra flushes, her tail thudding heavy against the bed, practically shrinking back into the sheets. She is purring, despite her obvious embarrassment, unsure how to handle the compliment. She can confidently handle being naked beneath Adora’s gaze, but apparently _words_ are out of her comfort zone.

Adora leans forward, cupping her face with one hand as the other travels _down_ , stroking along her body until she has made her way to the fur trail again and _past_ it. Catra gasps, arching up as Adora seals their lips together, kissing her languidly. She touches her slow, unhurried, far too gentle to be _enough_ for Catra.

“So gorgeous,” she murmurs again, enjoying _feeling_ Catra squirm beneath her now as she lets out a soft, needy noise. Apparently Adora is not the only one with a thing for _praise_. At this point, she knows what Catra needs to get off, the direct pressure and steady build it takes to push her over. She wonders if she can work _around_ that, though.

“ _Adora_ , touch me, for fuck’s sake,” Catra huffs, needy but not actually annoyed as she rolls down onto Adora’s hand. Adora _is_ touching her, working her clit in steady motions, but the touch is too light for Catra. Adora has no intent of that changing any time soon. She tilts her head down again, silencing Catra with a kiss as she continues her slow, steady movements. Catra whines against her mouth, shifting restlessly.

“Shh, just lay back, okay? Relax for me. I promise I’ll make you feel good,” Adora assures her, kissing the corner of her mouth now. Catra gasps, squirming beneath her. Adora pulls back a few inches, making eye contact to check in. Catra is totally flushed, her eyes wide, looking unbelievably turned on and a bit _confused_. Clearly, she doesn't know where Adora is going with this.

Adora can’t help but smile to herself. Adora may prefer to be on top, but she usually lets Catra direct her and take charge. Usually, it is what Catra likes, even if she likes the top herself, too. Adora is feeling _soft_ in a certain way right now, though, and she just wants to _give_ to Catra. She doesn’t want Catra to even have to ask. She also wants to shower her in praises, and she doesn’t think Catra will be able to handle that while trying to stay in control.

“Let me love you. Just relax and trust I will take care of you,” Adora tells her, softly, watching her reaction. Catra releases a quiet noise in her throat, ears twitching and eyes wide, but she bites her lip and nods hesitantly. Adora frowns. “Catra, if you aren’t comfortable, it won’t be good. _Tell_ me. I just want you to feel safe,” Adora tells her. She knows how important control is for Catra, she _gets_ it. Right now Adora is floating on a cloud of _safety_ and she just wants Catra to share in that.

Catra looks away, worrying at the lip between her teeth as she clearly _decides._ Adora gives her time, shifting the hand that was on her to gently stroke her thigh instead, the thumb from her hand on Catra’s cheeks rubbing gentle circles as she waits. She can’t rush Catra into feeling safe like this, she can’t make it good for her unless she is willing to let go. If she isn’t ready, she isn’t ready. Catra releases a soft breath, making eye contact with her again.

“Tell me what you’re going to do?” she asks, voice a little _insecure_. Adora feels her heart hammer, her chest tight, at hearing Catra’s voice like that. She knows Catra feels like this sometimes, far more often than she lets on, but she almost never verbalizes her insecurities, even just in tone. Adora smiles down at her as gently as she can. It must work because Catra relaxes a little back into the sheets, her gaze turning _open_ rather than _nervous_.

“I’m going to keep touching you, just like I have been. And I’m going to kiss you and tell you how much you mean to me, how gorgeous you are. I want to see if I can get you off like that,” Adora lays out, still softly stroking her. Catra shudders beneath her, eyes fluttering closed as she arches her hips against _nothing_ but Adora’s words. It is enough to tell her it is a good idea, if Catra is comfortable with it.

Catra lets out a slow breath, sinking back into the sheets as she lets her tension slip away, letting that careful control she has fought so hard for go. The _trust_ in her eyes when she opens them again might just be the hottest thing Adora has ever seen, and she has Catra naked beneath her _right now_. She feels her own heat spike, but she ignores it.

“Okay, I’ll try. I don’t know if I can, though,” Catra agrees, her voice a little unsteady. Adora can’t fight the smile breaking out across her face, leaning forward to kiss Catra slow and steady. Catra sighs into the kiss, content as Adora finally brings her hand back to touch her in the same slow, steady motion. Her hips twitch, clearly _wanting_ more, but she holds herself back. Adora feels warmth blossom in her chest.

“I love you so much,” she tells her, into the kiss, earning a soft, content noise. “I still can’t believe I get to call you mine. That I get to love you,” she adds. Catra whines, a desperate little noise that makes Adora’s breath catch. She increases the speed of her movements _a bit_ , but she focuses more on kissing Catra long and slow.

“I love the way you take care of me. I love when you let me take care of _you_. I’m so lucky to have you,” Adora tells her, listening to the ragged edge of Catra’s breathing, the soft little noises she makes that Adora wants to drink in forever. Catra’s eyes are screwed shut, her cheeks flushed, but she lays back and lets Adora love her. She twitches occasionally beneath her touch but otherwise holds still.

“That’s it. So good for me. Just focus on my hand. It’s just us, you’re safe,” Adora assures her, kissing along Catra’s cheek. Catra whimpers again, her eyes opening to find Adora’s, her gaze a little desperate as tears prick in the corners. Adora strokes one cheek while she kisses the other. She never slows the movements of her other hand.

“I’m right here, Catra. I just want to make my pretty girl feel good,” Adora promises her. Catra moans at that, her hips twitching, because apparently she has a _thing_ for being called pretty. Catra has been drop-dead gorgeous since puberty. Adora has recently come to realize she gets flirted with _often_. She wouldn’t think being told she is pretty would do much for her, she would think that Catra would _know_ , but her moans are proof enough.

“So soft and _strong_ ,” Adora adds, shifting the hand from her cheek down briefly to squeeze at her arm and feel the muscles lurking beneath the surface there. She quickly returns her hand when Catra makes a soft, needy sound and nudges her cheek against the air where it had been. She instantly relaxes again when Adora’s hand returns. Adora’s lungs feel tight seeing the blatant vulnerability and neediness.

“You’re such a fighter, Catra, but you are still _this,_ too. Soft, and cute, and pretty,” Adora tells her, kissing her and cupping her cheek. Catra moans, shifting into her touch and whining, noises absolutely desperate now. “You don’t have to fight all the time. I've got you. I would do anything for you,” Adora promises her, voice low. It is true. Any request, she will do everything she can to give it to Catra, to give her the world if she wants it. Adora could probably afford it.

Catra releases soft moans, her breathing ragged and hips twitching near-constantly as Adora touches her. She tilts her head, nudging against Adora, and Adora takes the invitation for another kiss happily. She is kind of running out of the air for words, anyway. It is getting hard to breathe, having Catra beneath her like this, just letting go and trusting her. It is making her own heat flare like a fire as Catra releases breathy moans, hip twitching, letting Adora work her over slowly and steadily.

Adora doesn’t stop kissing her, and Catra doesn’t stop kissing back, her lips desperate as the volume of her moans builds. Between kisses, Adora murmurs _gorgeous_ , and _I love you_ , and _that’s it, pretty girl_ again, earning keening moans and soft mewls as eventually, the words and steady pressure work her over the edge.

Catra cries out softly, almost a sob, when she finally comes, her arms wrapped around Adora’s back as she clings to her and rides it out on gentle, steady touches. She starts purring immediately, nuzzling into Adora, clinging to her and wriggling against her, apparently needing more contact. Adora is happy to give it to her, draping over her and then rolling them so she is on her back, Catra cradled against her chest in her arms. She wants to be able to surround Catra without caging her in, especially after she gave up so much. Catra just releases a noise of contentment in the midst of her purr and nudges in closer.

\--

Catra is feeling _floaty_ in Adora’s arms. Safe, content, relaxed. Adora kisses her face whenever she is not busy rubbing it against her neck, or shoulders, or collarbones, marking every part of Adora that she can reach as _hers_ , all hers. She manages to rumble out an _I love you_ in the midst of her purrs, the sound throaty, and Adora returns it without hesitation, despite how she just said it a damn near dozen times as she worked Catra towards an agonizingly slow orgasm.

Catra still absorbs the words with a happy trill, nuzzling in and reveling in the soft grin the sound earns her. She always hated being called _cute_ or thought of as delicate. She was the runt, the easy target. Being soft was dangerous, an invitation to be hurt. But with Adora, she can be. Adora meets her with the same softness, calling her _pretty_ without a note of ill intent. Catra is used to being attractive, _maybe_ even called gorgeous by an overachieving flirt, but she is not used to being _pretty_ , with all the delicacy that word implies. She knows Adora means it though, _believes_ it.

“I think I need to eat you out, now,” Catra tells her, completely honest and as conversational as she can manage with her voice still shaking a bit and her face buried in Adora’s shoulder. Adora’s reaction is instant, a flood of desire on top of the _heat_ already brimming beneath her skin, her thighs tensing as they twitch involuntarily.

“Relax for a minute, first. I know that was intense for you. I want you to enjoy it a bit longer,” Adora tells her, voice a little rough despite her loving tone. Catra groans at the words, burying her face deeper in her shoulder. Adora is being so _Adora_ about this. She is right, that had been _a lot_ , but it was in a good, mind-blowing, slowest-but-most-intense orgasm of her _life_ kind of way.

Catra needs to have her in turn. She slips down her body and moves to kiss along her as she goes before remembering Adora is still _clothed_ for some reason. That doesn’t last long. She doesn’t give Adora time to protest, growling and hooking her claws beneath her clothes to shred them, opening them so she can have access to her lover’s skin. Adora gasps, moaning a little despite how Catra didn’t even _touch_ her. Scraps of fabric land on the bed, but Catra doesn’t give a shit, not now Adora’s clothes are gone and she can kiss down her body.

“What if I liked that outfit?” Adora asks, but her voice is a bit strangled, rough with arousal. Even without that, Catra can smell her. With a low growl, Catra crosses the last few inches and _tastes_ her too. Adora’s pointless protests are forgotten instantly, moaning and arching her hips against Catra’s mouth. Adora is completely soaking and she needs no warmup before Catra meets her with her rough tongue, dragging it harshly against the length of her.

Adora cries out, her entire body twitching forward. She is close just from the fever of the last – fuck, it feels like she was working Catra slow and steady like that for an _hour_ , but she knows that can’t be right. Regardless, Adora moans and twitches beneath her mouth as Catra drinks her in, feeling almost _calmed_ by the satisfied sounds she drags out of her, contented by her taste against her tongue. Catra purrs, settling in happily to lay between her legs as she lets the unexplained peace soak through her. The vibrations have Adora _sobbing_ , but that only fuels her more.

Adora was edging herself as much as she was Catra. She doesn’t get to drink in her noises, twitches, moans of _Catra_ for long before Adora’s back is arching and she is pulsing beneath her tongue. Adora can get oversensitive after coming, but she has been worked up for so long that Catra thinks she might able to take it, so she doesn’t _stop_ , tongue insistent as she drives her to another peak quickly. She wants to return the favour, but she also wants to drink this in for just a little while longer.

After her second, Catra is worried about hurting her if she continues. She pulls back, nuzzling happily against her inner thigh. There is still plenty of her slick to kiss and lick, Catra drinking her in with contentment as Adora pants above her, splayed out and coming back to herself slowly. Even once her thighs have been thoroughly lavished, Catra has no intentions of _moving_ , resting her head to pillow on Adora’s thigh and closing her eyes with a long yawn.

“You going to sleep there?” Adora asks, her voice warm and affectionate, finally starting to return to some kind of normal now they are both satiated. Catra smiles to herself, nodding against Adora’s leg and using the opportunity to nuzzle against her more. She might have scent-marked Adora’s inner thighs, but in her defense, it is Friday night and no one else will be seeing Adora until she has had a shower.

“Hm,” Adora hums in response, yawning herself. “Okay, we can nap. Wake me up when you want to move,” Adora tells her around the yawn. The unspoken _I’ll panic if you don’t_ does not need to be said. Neither of them would handle it very well if they fell asleep together like _this_ and then woke up alone.

“Never want to move,” Catra returns in a murmur against her leg. Adora laughs softly, but she doesn’t challenge her, just reaching down a hand to pet over her mane for a moment before she goes limp herself, relaxing back into the sheets.

\--

“We can go to the Blues again this weekend, right?” Adora asks, over breakfast. Catra blinks up at her from her own omelet. It is one of the first real meals Adora learned, and she can confidently cook all kinds of variations. It may be her go-to, but she thinks she still manages to keep it fresh.

“Sure, if you want. Lockdown is over now,” Catra shrugs when she finishes chewing. She sends Adora a curious look, like she isn’t sure why Adora is asking, but security is kind of Catra’s _job_ , so she thought she would ask and manage her expectations early. Maybe Catra is just surprised that she is already bringing it up on Saturday. Adora grins, happy and relieved.

“Great. As much as I enjoyed _last_ weekend, I’m going stir-crazy on the estate,” Adora tells her, nudging Catra when she immediately rolls her eyes. Adora's building tension was part of the reason they hardly had sex last week and ended up breaking on Thursday – on Adora’s desk. She was so keyed up between anxiety and inaction, between being stuck in her house and her office, that she hadn’t been thinking about things like that until she reached her breaking point with the stress.

“You want to go ahead and go today?” Catra asks, eyeing her, uncertain. Adora shakes her head, shifting an arm to wrap it around Catra’s shoulders. Catra leans into the touch readily. They are already plastered against each other on the bench anyway.

“No, I think it might rain,” Adora dismisses, glancing out the window at the overcast sky. Catra growls, low and displeased. Adora laughs, imagining dragging a wet Catra back down the hiking trail in the rain. “Don’t worry, we’ll find something to do instead,” Adora promises her, bending down to kiss her temple. Catra’s ear flicks, but she silently returns to her food.

Adora frowns. Catra is _off_ right now, she has been for a few minutes. She returns to her own breakfast, finishing it quickly as she goes over the last few minutes, trying to find something that might have soured her mood. Not that Catra seems _unhappy_ , she is leaning into her side gladly, but something is clearly on her mind. Adora doesn’t think she said anything wrong, though, so she can't imagine what it is. Catra stares down at her plate when she finishes eating. She sighs, looking up at Adora with blatant caution.

“You know the screen in your office?” she asks. Adora blinks at her as she feels her breath pause for a moment. She doesn’t need to ask for clarification of what Catra is talking about. She doesn’t know why Catra is thinking about this right now, but she understands her _offness_ from the last few minutes. Catra never brings up her parents. Adora nods. Catra looks apologetic, no doubt regretting bringing it up, but she keeps moving forward.

“Do you want me to look at it? I know you haven’t been working on it recently, but I’m sure you never had someone with my background look it over before. With everything that happened, I thought – I don’t know, maybe I could help you with this like I did with the Prime stuff,” Catra explains, gesturing a little with her hands as she speaks. Gesturing with her _claws_ , actually, because they are slid out just from her nerves. Adora reaches out, threading her fingers with Catra’s, carefully mindful of their sharp points. Catra relaxes a bit from the touch, though she still looks anxious.

“I would appreciate that, Catra. I’ve been stuck on it for a long time, now. Fresh eyes might help,” Adora tells her. The rest of Catra’s anxiety slips away as she nods. She clearly was not sure if this was a good idea. Though Adora still wants to find her mothers’ bodies, she accepted that they were dead a long time ago. She has closure, in a way, but she wants to lay them to rest. She wants to know what happened to them, too – needs to if her night terrors are ever going to stop tormenting her with it happening to her and Catra as well – but she has come to accept a lot of unknowns with Hope and Mara.

Despite readily agreeing to it, it feels weird to show Catra the screen. Adora has not opened it up since she was chasing the Prime paper trail, and even then it was only for a moment. Before that it had been a few weeks. Adora really was stuck, every dead end leading _nowhere_. She could find no one who even called the couple their friends since the two of them graduated college together and pealed straight out of the graduation ceremony for Jersey. They appeared to do nothing but go to work and take care of Adora when they got home.

Catra’s eyes flick over the board as Adora unfurls it on the wall, gaze lingering on each information point just long enough to skim as she takes in the breadth of the investigation first. Adora has more – a lot more, actually, multiple hard drives worth – but some of it she _knows_ is not relevant, and the rest of it she could find nothing useful in. Maybe Catra could pick out something crucial in there, though. This screen is still the starting point. Catra’s eyes narrow as she takes in information before they are _widening_ , ears pinning back. Catra swallows, reaching out to gently remove a printout of the apartment floor plan. Adora feels a cold weight settle in her stomach.

“Adora, was Mara a fighter?” Catra asks, quietly, her eyes wide as she stares down at the paper. Adora nods, knowing Catra can see it. Catra’s gaze flicks up to find the crime scene photos of the kitchen, spotless compared to the rest of the apartment.

“MMA. Her dad taught her. He was a professional, back in the day. She had a bio-med degree, but she kept up competitions on the side,” Adora lists off, almost robotically. This is good – this is bad. Catra’s eyes are dark. She visibly swallows, moving closer to wrap her arms around Adora, pulling her close.

“I know who did this,” Catra tells her, quietly. Adora breaks with a sob.

“ _Tell me_ ,” she begs.

\--

Being a mentee is an upgrade from a recruit, gives her more time and less general pain as she specializes in her espionage training, but she wishes she got a different fucking mentor than Grizzlor. The man is skilled as hell, but he is also _cruel_. He enjoys torture, even if he was a hitman first, like he is training Catra to be. Catra never asks why he changed – she doesn’t _give a shit_ – but Grizzlor tells her and the other recruits the story one day during training.

She is pretty sure he tells them because he wants to intimidate them with what real jobs look like. He brings out the intel for the job even, showing them the floor plan and explaining about _being prepared_. He tells them that decades ago, when Hordak had only recently backstabbed the people who used to be in charge and risen to the top over their dead bodies, he gave Grizzlor a hit-and-retrieval job. Take out the couple, fetch something the client needed – _easy_.

“Never underestimate your target,” Grizzlor warns in a rough voice. Catra could needle that the target was not underestimated, he was just too weak to handle them, but she doesn’t _particularly_ want to go crawling to Rogelio for medical attention tonight, so she bites her tongue.

They were just supposed to be two office moms. Grizzlor broke in while they were at work, lying in wait for them around the blind corner of the kitchen. Hordak told him they would be stopping at home to change out of their office clothes before continuing on to pick their child up from daycare. It was their routine. Grizzlor decided to focus on the taller of them first, a woman nearly matching him in height. He was not expecting the shorter of the two to immediately whip a knife out of her purse and _leap_ on him.

The fight was vicious, the way he recounted it. He made it sound like it went on for twenty minutes, trading blows and suffering stab wounds, damage to his nerves and tendons that made his left arm useless for months and gave him a permanent limp even after he built strength back up. To Catra, it sounds like he took two stabs and almost went down, nearly bleeding out in the kitchen.

He talks about how difficult it was to move their bodies with his injuries. The client asked for a quiet job, no traces, so he stowed the bodies in the sewer entrance out back of the apartment building. The water would degrade and rot the bodies fast, leaving no evidence. He had to linger to clean the kitchen. He had been going about the job bare-handed specifically to avoid the need to clean up blood, but now his own was splattering the tiles.

He keeps going on and on about what a bitch it was to erase all traces with one arm useless and still bleeding into its field bandage. He doesn’t have time to search the apartment for the deliverable before he spots police pulling up outside through the window. Their lights are not on, but they are there to check on the couple after they seemingly abandoned their child at daycare. Grizzlor was forced to flee the scene before he got caught.

Then Grizzlor launches into how his injuries are a lesson to always be prepared, complaining about all the ways his life has changed since. Catra feels kind of sick by the end of the story. She feels that way a lot, talking to Grizzlor, but here he is complaining about how _hard_ things have been on him since he killed these women, how _they_ had hurt him while he ended their lives and left their child an orphan like her. Her claws are digging into the edge of her seat where she is gripping it to keep herself still.

This is what is waiting for her, when she finishes her training. Jobs like this, a _life_ like this.

\--

Catra pulled her down to sit on the floor before she started the story, holding her in her arms as she explained, her voice a low rumble. Adora doesn’t know if she expected her to collapse, or if she just wanted to hold her. She is grateful for it either way, burying her face in Catra’s shoulder as she processes.

She knows where, and how, and _who_ now. She knows he never regretted it for a moment and he has gotten what was coming to him.

But she doesn’t why. She doesn’t know who _wanted them dead_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of Act I, with the tease for Act II. There will be a small time skip to Adora's birthday between the two acts, but aside from that Act II will be picking up soon. I plan to shift to updating every three days/twice a week when I do so, just to account for my injuries and the semester picking up. I will also likely be taking a few days before I start posting Act II, but in the meantime feel free to enjoy the [ficnotes for Act I.](https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/632187340283052032/fic-notes-essay-for-act-i-of-smile-like-a)


	15. ACT II: Birthday Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra is going to give Adora everything she wants for her birthday - and then she is going to take something for herself. Adora. She is going to take Adora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t intend for the smut to be this long so sorry this update is such a monster but it needed to happen.  
> [Catra and Adora’s bedframe](https://www.wayfair.com/Gracie-Oaks--Woodson-Canopy-Bed-CJ141753-L12-K~BOME3083.html) is basically this but for Adora’s big ass king.  
> [Adora’s dress](http://www.zuhairmurad.com/en/couture-SS-19-look-49). [Catra’s suit](http://www.zuhairmurad.com/en/FW-21-look-33) on the right (though it was custom-ordered so the embossing is reminiscent of the embroidery on Adora’s dress).

Catra wakes up on Friday not to the vibrating alarm Adora has gotten as a way to accommodate Catra’s sensitive hearing, but to soft kisses pressed against the scars on the back of her neck and gentle hands roaming over her bare sides. They _shouldn’t_ , but they had fallen asleep naked after they had sex last night. It has been happening occasionally in the last few weeks, but when Catra almost always wakes up to _this_ afterwards it is hard to break the habit.

Catra begins to purr, her rumble filling the room as much as the morning light. She wriggles a bit beneath Adora’s stroking hands, not _quite_ scent-rolling the sheets, but far too content to question herself or bother to properly mark. It already smells like her, Adora, sweat, and sex anyway. The only thing she ever wants to smell, to be honest.

Adora makes a soft noise behind her as she squirms, causing her to pause and her ears to prick up. “You’re so _cute_ ,” Adora says, voice absolutely _enamoured_ as she flexes her hands on Catra for a moment before returning to petting over her hips. Catra huffs, but her purr hasn’t ceased as she rubs her cheek into the pillow, nuzzling into the softness and safety of their bed. She _loves_ it here. There has never been a space so thoroughly hers except for the gap between Adora’s thighs.

Adora may have a mattress worth tens of thousands of dollars, but she has had it sat on a basic folding frame since she got it. For _reasons_ , Catra asked they get a proper bedframe, and Adora had immediately accommodated her. The four-poster was minimal and modern, with a crossbar where a headboard would start that was as useful as the posts. It had been surprisingly difficult to find a bedframe that didn’t make Catra feel caged in just looking at it, but Adora had set about it dutifully, wanting to give Catra what she wanted out of their room.

This space is _hers_ , and _theirs_ , and above all, _home_. She feels relaxed and content, snuggling into the sheets despite how they should probably be getting up. It is hard to convince herself to when, even though it is a Friday, they don’t actually have anywhere to be. One of the perks of being the boss’s niece is getting to take certain days off.

“So, what do you want to do first today, birthday girl?” Catra asks around a yawn, making no move to leave the bed. Actually, making no moves at all aside from the slow sweep of her tail over their legs, thoroughly content with her current position in Adora’s arms.

“I’m definitely not done cuddling yet,” Adora returns, snuggling into Catra’s mane. Catra’s purr rolls again. She smiles to herself, sinking down into the sheets again. That is fine by her, she was far from eager to leave the bed either.

“We have the fitting at two, but aside from that I was thinking we could go for a walk up to the house? I kinda want to make out on the fountain in Micah’s garden,” Adora tells her. Catra snorts, swatting Adora’s hip lightly with her tail. Her girlfriend is an _idiot_.

“How romantic,” Catra tells her, voice dry, but she is still smiling to herself. Despite Adora’s bluntness, it kind of _is_. The fountain has a wide base, almost a bench wrapping around it. Micah’s garden is a beautiful backdrop to it. Angella’s gardeners have maintained it dutifully since his death, even if Angella hardly goes there herself. Adora never met Micah, but Glimmer told her he would want people to appreciate it.

Adora hums lightly, nudging into the back of her neck. “And I want to stop at a flower shop on the way back from the fitting,” Adora adds. Catra lets out a small noise of acknowledgement, the code understood without the need to shatter the peaceful moment. Now she knows the plan for the day, and she is all too happy to give Adora everything she has asked for.

“Am I allowed to turn over, or do you want to keep cuddling like this?” she asks, tone teasing as she wriggles a bit in her arms. She hears Adora’s breath catch. She smirks to herself, knowing full well her words would illicit such a reaction. She waits, knowing it will take a moment for Adora’s brain to turn back on, and likely a moment more for her to actually _decide_.

“I like this,” Adora returns. Catra can tell from her voice that her cheeks are blazing. Catra’s purr rumbles loud from her satisfaction and she sinks into Adora’s embrace. Adora would do nothing to stop her if she did roll over – it would never even _occur_ to her to - but the safety of knowing that is what makes Catra all the more content to indulge in her requests.

Besides, this is the first birthday they get to celebrate like _normal_. Birthdays were never celebrated in the home, and though they always made the effort to do something special with each other, they had to do it in secret, and they didn’t always have the opportunity to. Once they were separated, both of their birthdays were just painful reminders of what they had lost. Adora had still celebrated hers semi-normally at the family’s insistence, but she told Catra she had never enjoyed one of her birthday cakes before. Catra is determined to change that this year.

“Let me know when you’re ready for breakfast,” she answers, stretching out a little before going limp in Adora’s arms. Adora hums softly.

“I think in a hundred more kisses,” she answers, pressing another to Catra’s shoulder. Catra can’t help but laugh. She fell in love with a _dork_.

\--

Despite the unfortunately timed fitting, Adora’s birthday is looking pretty damn perfect so far. Adora hums along with the radio as she drives them to the tailors, Catra researching flower shops that they will pass on the way home on her phone as they drive. Breakfast had been cozy with just the two of them, and then they spent nearly two hours wandering through the estate before they finally made their way to their actual destination in the garden. They kept distracting each other, Adora pulling Catra off to show her some part of the grounds she just remembered she hadn’t seen yet.

“Grayskull. Bodyguard,” Frosta greets them, barely glancing up from her phone as they walk in. The normal receptionist looks borderline horrified by Frosta’s flippantness, but Adora just smiles at Frosta. Catra raises an eyebrow.

“I have a real last name, you know,” Catra points out. Frosta looks up to make eye contact with her for a moment, considering it, before she shrugs and looks back down to her phone. She gestures towards the fitting room, though, standing from her stool to start walking them back.

“Your name isn’t on the orders, so I don’t know it,” Frosta dismisses as she holds the door to the dressing room open. Catra throws Adora a long-suffering look, but she takes her hand and pulls her through the doorway with her into the room. Frosta follows behind them.

“Don’t worry, you covered it already,” Adora tells her. She grins when Catra’s ears twitch, her eyes narrowing at Adora. Frosta throws her a confused look as she crosses the room to a rack loaded with black garment bags.

“It is just _Gray_ ,” Catra clarifies, elbowing Adora before she sets about sweeping the room. Adora rolls her eyes, moving to follow after Frosta. When Adora steps beside her, she catches Frosta’s brows drawing together in confusion, but she does not ask questions before Catra returns to Adora's shoulder, raising her eyebrow at the garment bags. Frosta takes the hint, unzipping several of the bags to show Catra the – hopefully – final fitting of the suits. One white tie ensemble, two tuxedos, and a few evening suits in a variety of patterns and cuts, modern and perfect for a gala. Catra hums softly to herself as she consults the suits, her fingers flitting over the fabric as she moves between them.

“Ensure the fit on these and then check the special order,” Frosta says, waving her hand at the two sealed garment bags left at the end of the rack. Catra nods, lifting her hands to remove her jacket, but Adora beats her to it. She steps behind her, slipping it off her shoulders and folding it over her arm. It isn’t a suit jacket, just a pink velvet bomber Adora is pretty sure might have been Glimmer’s at one point. It shouldn’t crease, but she also thinks it is Gucci, so she folds it over her arm despite the way Catra is blushing, her ears pinning back in embarrassment.

Frosta watches the exchange with a raised eyebrow, her gaze casting down to Catra’s left hand briefly. Adora wishes. If she could have one thing for her birthday it would be that, but she gets that the way she had removed Catra’s jacket was a bit _familiar_. Probably because she is practiced at it by now, but Frosta does not need to know that. Adora still has another month to go on her ban before she is allowed to look at rings. She suspects that could take her awhile, too. She wants to get Catra something perfect, something that fits _her_ , and she has to figure out how the hell to do it without her knowing.

“If no changes need to be made, we can go straight to ringing up. I doubt you will need my help, but let me know if the dress gives you trouble,” Frosta tells them, gazing still darting between them. Adora nods, throwing her what she hopes is a placating smile. Catra’s ears are still pinned back as she fixes her gaze on a point deeper in the room. Frosta raises an eyebrow, but she makes for the door to the expansive fitting room.

“You are so _gay_ , Adora,” Catra retorts once Frosta is gone, several minutes too late but the first time she can say it as she eyes her jacket on Adora’s arm. Adora rolls her eyes, blushing a little as she gestures to the rack of suits. Catra continues to stare her down with a raised eyebrow, only heightening her flush, but eventually she turns to the rack with a fond eyeroll.

Despite it being totally unnecessary, Adora helps her into and out of the suit jackets. She has practice, but she could always use _more_. Adora’s mouth goes a bit dry, watching Catra undress and then _redress_ in the suits. She is pretty sure if it hadn’t been almost three months at this point she would be crowding Catra against a wall right now, but she has learned _some_ self-restraint in the last few weeks, and she knows they will have plenty of times to themselves later. She no longer feels that urgency of the first few weeks that this is their only chance. She has plenty of proof to the contrary now.

Catra has started undressing _slow_ now, because she is an asshole and can tell when she is doing to Adora. “Really?” Adora questions, exasperated, but she is flushing when Catra makes eye contact with her in the mirror as she undoes the fly on the suit pants to try on her final piece, still in its garment bag at the end, joined by Adora’s dress.

“Thought I would let you enjoy yourself on your birthday,” Catra returns, with a faux-casual shrug as she crosses to the end of the rack in nothing but her underwear. Adora glares at her back, but Catra can see it just fine in the mirror. She laughs, unzipping her garment bag. “Get stripping, Adora. I need you in your birthday suit to try this on,” Catra tells her. Adora flushes, but she does as she is told with mechanical precision. Catra’s back is to her as she pulls on her own suit. If you could _call_ it a suit, anyway. Adora’s garment bag is practically bursting with her dress, but she can’t tear her eyes off Catra.

It _is_ a suit, but the fact that the suit jacket is made of _leather_ is kind of making Adora’s mouth go dry again. Catra watches her in the mirror with amusement as she is drawn to her like a moth to flame, pausing behind her and still _staring_.

“What do you think of the detailing?” Catra asks, an amused curl to her voice. She knows Adora does not give a _shit_ about the custom detailing, embossment in the leather to match the embroidery on Adora’s dress. Adora raises her hands, placing them on Catra’s waist over the black jacket and forcing herself not to grip too strongly and _certainly_ not to spin Catra around and kiss her right there. She doesn’t know if she can stop once she starts.

“I think I want you to bend me over a table after the gala,” Adora returns, her voice a little hoarse but _shameless_. Catra flushes, a predatory grin breaking out across her face.

“That could be arranged tonight if you want, princess. I have yet to show you my new toy,” Catra promises her. Adora’s mouth is about as dry as Arizona right now, but between her legs might as well be the tropics. She whines softly, watching Catra’s grin spread even wider. Catra had gone _somewhere_ last weekend, asking for Adora to stay home while she went and got them a surprise for later. She has done it three times now. The first time she came back with the tie system that is tucked discreetly between their bedframe and mattress, and the last time she came back with an _outfit_ that Adora hasn’t gotten to see again since, but it had killed her at the time, and she is all too happy to wait for its next appearance.

Adora knows Catra is going to _specialty_ shops and bringing back surprises, but she has no idea what her most recent surprise is. She suspected it was being saved for her birthday, and it seems she was right. “Uh huh,” Adora returns, intelligently, nodding and flushing. Catra cackles, finally breaking eye contact as she forces her laugh down to snickering.

“Try on your goddess gown, idiot,” Catra tells her, elbowing her. It occurs to Adora that she has been standing here in nothing but her underwear while Catra was making her lose her mind, fully dressed. Adora flushes _worse_ , but she hurries over to her garment bag and unzips it. The gown is carefully hung inside, but Adora still needs Catra’s help to pull it on and fasten it.

Catra would look composed as she steps back from Adora if it were not for her tail lashing. Adora grins at her in the mirror. “Adora. You can’t _blame_ me. Look at you,” Catra huffs, gesturing a bit wildly. She is flushing now, looking away as her ears pin back. Her eyes are quickly drawn back, however.

The gown is certainly a lot more than the last one she wore, but she is not expecting anyone to die during this gala. A high neckline, but transparent until the wave embroidery covering her chest. The flowing white skirt has a high slit to allow for easy movement, and careful embroidery covers her arms in long sleeves with a long draping to mirror the skirt falling like capes from each shoulder. Despite the whiteness of it, it will match the aquatic theme of the gala well.

Catra also can’t seem to look away from her tits in it, pushed up by the bodice and brought to attention by the embroidery. After the mess Catra had reduced her to, it feels good to return the favour. Catra’s tail is still _going_ , even though she is not looking at Adora anymore.

“It fits fine. Change out of it so we can go,” Catra tells her, voice strangled but finally making eye contact with her, cheeks still blazing. Adora grins, but she follows the order. She is all-too eager to hurry so she can be alone with Catra in a non-public place again.

\--

Plumeria Flowers is on the way back to the estate from the tailors, and has wonderful reviews according her maps app. Catra directs Adora to pull into their customer parking and then makes her wait in the car until she has gotten out and can come around to open the door for her. Normally, she wouldn’t bother, but with the driver’s side door facing the street she wants to be safe.

Adora, the asshole, gives a faux curtsey with no skirt and terrible form when she opens the door. Catra rolls her eyes, but she goes along with it, offering Adora her arm, which Adora takes eagerly, practically perking up at the gesture. Catra leads her to the shop door, pulling it open and setting off a chiming bell that makes her ears flinch back. Adora gives her a commiserating look as she hurries inside and firmly takes the door from her.

Normally Catra would protest, but she follows Adora inside and pins her ears back, nodding to her to let her know she is ready. Adora closes the door, setting off the grating sound of the bell again, but at least Catra is prepared this time. Having her ears already pinned back helps. Adora turns and offers her an apologetic smile before she crosses back to her to take her hand.

“You should really take that down. A motion alarm that would go off in the back to alert you wouldn’t cost more than an arrangement,” Adora says, looking towards the counter. The blonde guy working there winces a little, shrinking into his shoulders.

“Sorry, never thought about it before,” he says. Adora narrows her eyes and _sniffs_ , dismissive and annoyed. Catra is torn between purring and rolling her eyes. Instead, she sweeps the shop visually to be sure it is just them, bursting assortments of flowers, and the shop owner. It really isn’t surprising and Catra knows Adora _knows_ that. He isn’t the first employee to be on the receiving end of Adora after a bell chimed and he won’t be the last.

“Can I, uh, help you two with anything?” he asks. Catra squeezes Adora’s hand in hers, bringing her back down. Adora lets out a breath, letting it go for the moment. She has other things to be worrying around. Catra follows beside Adora as she approaches the counter, glancing around the flowers in the room.

“White peonies, violets, and baby’s breath. Bush arrangement for a grave,” Adora lists off, not looking at the man. The man frowns, some of his demeanor changing as he gives a quick nod and makes his way around the counter to make the selection. Catra hovers over Adora’s shoulder, watching the man out of the corner of her eye as he makes his way around the small shop, pulling flowers and disappearing into the back with them. She listens to the snip of scissors as the arrangement is made up. As she waits, Adora drifts to a nearby bin of rose-like flowers with big, crinkly petals and reaches out to carefully feel the petals.

“I like these,” she says, a bit absently. Catra pauses, feeling her head tilt as she observes Adora standing over the bursting bucket of delicate blooms. Her face is open, peaceful and relaxed as she looks down at the flowers and smiles easily. The first few times Catra had accompanied her to the flower shop near Alliance, Adora’s expression had been studiously blank. Now, she looks at the pale maybe-roses with a soft expression.

“Why those ones?” Catra prompts softly, moving to stand at her shoulder. Adora tilts her head a little, biting her lip as she looks down at them. Neither for them paid any attention to flowers before, but the first time they stopped at a flower shop Adora had asked for a meaningful arrangement built around Hope’s favourite flower, and she has been getting the same flowers ever since.

“They look like- don’t laugh, okay?” Adora starts, looking up at Catra and narrowing her eyes, cheeks tinting a little. Catra raises an eyebrow. She was not going to laugh, not unless Adora said something inappropriate, because some flowers _really_ resemble body parts, but these roses definitely don’t.

“I won’t laugh. I want to know why you like them,” Catra returns. Adora blushes, quickly looking down at the bucket. Catra usually isn’t this honest – Adora usually understands her regardless – but she isn’t going to fuck around when it comes to anything approaching this subject.

“They look like if roses had a kitten phase,” Adora explains. Catra doesn’t laugh, but she doesn’t _understand_ either, staring at Adora like she has gone crazy. Adora’s blush solidifies. “They have too many petals, it’s almost like they’re all crammed in there, and they’re wrinkly but they’re so pretty and delicate still. It’s like a rose in its awkward phase while it is growing up,” Adora explains, gesturing down at the flowers.

Catra pauses, turning to look down at the flowers, considering them for a long moment. It takes her a minute, but she sees what Adora sees. The roses do look like they could be in the middle of growing up, despite their already large size. Only Adora would look at a rose and give it a _backstory_ , but she gets it.

“That’s sweet,” she tells her, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. Adora is still blushing, but her nervous energy is gone, relieved Catra understands, or is at least _accepting_. She hums softly when Catra kisses her, leaning into the touch.

“What’s your favourite flower?” Adora asks her, looking down at the roses again. Catra pauses, raising an eyebrow at her. It is a stupid question for Adora to ask, and clearly she picks up the message because she huffs and rolls her eyes without even looking up to Catra. “ _If you had to pick one_ ,” Adora clarifies, because she knows Catra does not _have_ a favourite flower.

Catra pauses, considering it. She really doesn’t have a favourite flower – neither does Adora, or at least _did_ Adora until she started giving personality to a bucket of roses. She never thought about something like that. Favourite colour is easy, and something people ask commonly. No one has ever asked her what her favourite flower was before, and likely no one _would_ again but Adora. Well, maybe Scorpia, but Scorpia is her own special brand of soft.

“Foxglove,” Catra decides, because she is far from soft herself, no matter what Adora sleepily mumbles while she pets through her fur. Adora pauses, tilting her head questioningly. Catra casts her eyes around the shop and is shocked to find foxglove, or at least something that looks damn close to it, in a bucket in the corner. She points Adora towards it.

“I know they’re pink, but Rogelio used to grow them. They’re poisonous in large doses, but in small doses they can treat heart disease. I like that,” Catra explains, feeling herself blush now. Whatever. At least she didn’t compare flowers to kittens. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Adora looking at her with that shining expression she gets near-daily. Catra rolls her eyes, tucking into Adora’s side if only so they are close enough that she can’t see her face.

“Are these your favourite?” she asks, gesturing down to the bucket. Her ear swivels as the door to the backroom opens, cutting them off. She turns, looking up to see the blonde man sheepishly returning now he has caught sight of them cuddled together in the middle of the store. Adora doesn’t look up, considering the bucket of roses.

“What kind of flowers are these?” she asks, projecting her voice. The shop owner hurries forward, peering over the counter to see the flowers they are considering before smiling.

“Great maiden’s blush roses. They mean ‘if you love me, I will find out’ in the Victorian flower language,” the man explains. Catra finds herself blinking down at the roses, feeling her cheeks colour. Somehow that aggressive brand of romance fits Adora very well.

“Can we get a few stems of these, too? For a vase,” she decides, looking up to make eye contact with the shop owner and steadfastly ignoring when Adora’s head turns sharply to look down at her. The shop owner nods, smiling a little as he sets the arrangement he had made for Adora on the counter.

“You want a vase, too?” he asks, gesturing to where a few slender, glass vases are set on the end of the counter. Catra nods. Adora doesn’t say anything, relaxing by her side but looking at her with that same shining expression against despite having already used her daily quota. The man selects a few of the roses, arranging them in the vase before adding a few sprigs of the baby’s breath he had already pulled and presenting it proudly to them alongside Adora’s arrangement.

“It’s lovely,” Adora tells him, finally looking away from Catra as she pulls out her wallet to pay. Catra gathers the vase for her as she pays, well aware Adora will want to carry her arrangement herself.

“Come back anytime. The bell will be gone next time, I promise,” the shop owner tells them. Adora beams at him.

\--

Adora hums to herself as they reach the estate again, driving right past the driveway to her house and taking a side road from the main drive. She doesn’t know what the earworm the radio was playing earlier was, but the rhythm of it is helping to keep her grounded. Kind of like what Catra’s purr does for her, sometimes.

She doesn’t visit the Queen’s family cemetery every day. She thinks it would be too sad if she did. But she goes once every weekend, and sometimes once during the week, too, if she has a nightmare about Mara and Hope. It is almost a relief that her nightmares have a shape, definitive and defined now.

Catra gets out of the car as soon as they pull up to the cemetery gate, leaning against the car door and waiting for Adora to gather herself. She collects the arrangement and makes her way around the car, reaching for Catra’s hand and wiggling her fingers in silent request. She won't ask; if Catra needs to hang back today, she understands that. This is supposed to be their relaxing day together, but it is her _birthday_ , and there is someone she can finally see on it.

Catra takes her hand. They walk up the main path of the cemetery hand in hand, passing Angella’s – Hope’s – family for the last three hundred years, before they reach the branch off to the spot that was supposed to be Hope’s, before the disownment. Adora feels her lungs going tight, looking at the lone tombstone there.

“We’ll find her, too,” Catra assures her, quietly. Adora swallows, nodding and looking down at the flowers in her hand. White peonies. _Regret, shame, apology_. They were Hope’s favourite, according to Angella. She drops Catra’s hand to cross the last few feet to Hope’s grave, placing the flowers lightly at the base. She places her hand on the cold stone for a moment, trying to ground herself with its solid presence. She never talks when she comes to visit Hope. She says things – to herself and to her – but never out loud. She can think _Mara should have been there too_ and _I’ll bring you back together_ , but saying it out loud is too much.

The sewers had been searched before nightfall, once Catra told her. Catra hadn’t known where the couple was killed, it was just a drop in the bucket of the stories she knew, but once she saw the matching floor plan, the spotless kitchen, put together the _office moms_ and _kid at daycare_ , it took a single, teary call to Angella for the sewer below their old apartment building to be searched.

They found Hope instantly. The occasional small bone was missing, washed away or carried off by rats, but aside from some scavenging damage, her skeleton was intact. They didn’t find a single bone matching Mara’s DNA. Despite what Grizzlor told Catra, her body wasn’t there. Hope had been alone in the sewer for two decades, but she wasn’t anymore. Now she had her daughter visiting her on her birthday, with a spot ready at her side. They had done the impossible and found Adora’s mother once – she can only hope that they can do it again.

Adora readjusts the flowers so they aren’t covering the dates on the tombstone before she stands, turning to rejoin Catra. Catra takes her hand immediately, giving her a soft, supportive smile. It has been seven weeks. Adora can handle it now. The first time Catra gave her that smile as she returned from the tombstone, she burst into tears.

Adora has closure, in a way. She knows what happened. She even suspects what happened with Mara. Grizzlor was running low on time, trying to hide two bodies in broad daylight. The theory that he couldn’t get Mara to the sewer as well makes sense, regardless of how he complained to Catra about having to hide them both. It makes sense to skip the detail of _separate hiding spots_ when retelling the story for the purpose of teaching a lesson.

The entire apartment building and sewer system have been searched. Mara isn’t there, but Adora still knows how she died, and she has gotten to lay one of her parents to rest. She has gotten – justice, she supposes, but the word doesn’t feel quite right – against the person who killed them. She is far from at peace, she won’t be until she finds Mara at least and hopefully finds out who ordered the hit, but after the rawness of the first week or two she has settled again. She is in a better place than ever. It is still hard, sometimes. Maybe it is just that she doesn’t like the thought of them alone and apart. She wishes they had been laying beside each other for all those years.

“Let’s go back to our house. I think it’s time for couch cuddles until dinner,” Adora tells Catra as they head back down the path. Catra lets out a soft noise of affirmation, wrapping her arm around Adora and pulling her close.

“Of course, birthday girl,” Catra returns.

\--

Couch cuddles turn out to be just what Adora needs. Catra understands why she needed to go today of all days. Birthdays are supposed to be spent with family. They will have dinner with Adora’s remaining family tonight, but visiting Hope was something Adora just had to do. It does not seem to have brought her down too much. She still needs the time to just be, pulling Catra into her lap and reclining on the couch with her hands buried in Catra’s hair, scratching at the base of her ears. Catra is all-too happy to nuzzle into Adora’s neck and purr for her while they both soak in some much-needed relaxation.

Catra starts getting texts from Glimmer after about a solid hour of doing nothing but laying together, dozing in and out and occasionally murmuring soft words to each other.

“What does she want? Is it about the jacket?” Adora asks, groggily, despite the fact she has been awake for the last twenty minutes. Catra frowns down at the string of texts from Glimmer asking her to bring Adora up to the house for dinner. There also is one complaining about Catra _wearing her fucking jacket_ , for some reason.

“This is yours?” Catra asks, not at all confident, looking up at Adora and tugging on the collar of the gray bomber. Now that all their clothes are stored in the same closet, the line between _Adora's_ and _Catra's_ is pretty much drawn at their personally tailored clothing and anything too small for Adora to reasonably wear. Neither of them really attempt to distinguish things anymore, but Catra knows she did not buy this jacket. Velvet usually is not her thing. There can be static electricity issues with it and her fur, but for outerwear like this it is fine. Adora rolls her eyes, tightening her arms where they are draped over Catra’s back.

“Does that look like something I would buy? The only designer stuff I have I bought while following Glimmer on shopping trips. I’m pretty sure Glimmer left that here like two years ago. It’s fine, it’s out of season or whatever,” Adora tells her, rolling her eyes as she squints down at her phone. Catra narrows her eyes at the screen. She is not so confident it is _fine_ since Glimmer is complaining about it after no doubt spotting it in security footage while hunting Adora down. Adora seems to pick up on her unease, leaning forward and kissing her cheek.

“Wear it to dinner and I’ll tell you how hot you look in it within earshot of Glimmer. She won’t want it back after hearing that,” Adora tells her. Catra snorts, but she nuzzles into the touch and purrs. She isn’t that bothered about losing the jacket, to be honest, but she will take Adora up on her offer if only to see Glimmer’s face. Catra felt weird about putting the jacket on as soon as she pulled it out of their closet and saw the label on the inside, but she has been determined not to be uncomfortable with the things that are just a part of Adora’s – of _their_ – life now. She is wearing it now mostly out of spite, to be honest.

“We should get going before she throws a fit,” Catra returns, sending Glimmer a text to let her know they are about to start heading up to the house, along with a follow up that makes it clear she is only wearing clothes that belong to her. Adora hums, petting down the length of her back once before she sighs and drops her arms.

“Fine, but when we get back, it’s just us,” Adora concedes. Catra smiles to herself as she rises from Adora’s lap.

“Trust me, princess, I don’t want anyone sharing the view once we get home,” Catra promises her. Adora flushes and nods.

\--

Birthday dinners are a big thing with the Queens. Your favourite meal, your favourite desert, and then your favourite cake. Adora’s past four birthdays all felt weird and wrong. Less so, as time went wrong, but birthday celebrations were always a secret she and Catra shared, and she didn’t feel right doing it publicly or without her. Angella had offered her the day off without Adora asking, and Adora had taken it happily, but she had told Angella that outside of dinner, she wanted to spend the day with Catra.

Angella had been completely understanding, but no force on the planet was getting her out of birthday dinner. With Catra by her side this year, she does not want out, either. She is happy to drive them up to the main house, excited to show Catra what she will experience in five months, because Adora is determined she will get a birthday dinner, too. They make their way into the house hand-in-hand, Catra’s ears twitching as they approach the dining hall. Adora looks down at her curiously.

“Is something going on in there?” she asks, pausing outside the doors. Catra looks at her with confusion for a moment before scoffing and rolling her eyes.

“They’re guessing about what we have been doing,” Catra tells her. Adora feels herself smile, pushing open the door to the dining hall and pulling Catra through with her. Outside of family dinner, she always asked to be alone when people tried to engage with her on her birthday. She could tell Angella assumed it was because of her moms, and she let her think that. The moment Catra came back into her life a lot of the old assumptions fell away. Adora had requested the day for just the two of them, and she could only imagine what traditions her family were making up for them, but the truth was there were no traditions aside from being with each other.

The chattering in the dining hall immediately ceases, cut off with a chorus of “Happy Birthday!” when they walk in. Adora smiles, beaming as she makes her way to her seat with Catra by her side. Glimmer asks what they have been up to, and Adora chooses to summarize their day as _going for a walk, had our final fitting, visited Hope, and then hung out at home_. Glimmer narrows her eyes, clearly anticipating _more_ , but there really is no secret for her to find.

“Adora compared some flowers to kittens. Gave them a backstory and everything,” Catra adds, elbowing her with a grin. She is cutting off any further questions about their day by directing them to one specific story and Adora knows it. She appreciates it. Angella’s eyes got sad as soon as she mentioned visiting Hope.

“What do flowers have to do with kittens?” Bow asks, confused, looking between Catra and Adora. Adora finds herself smiling. Catra may have understood, but Bow will actually _relate_.

“They were great maiden’s blush roses, and they look like roses in the middle of growing into themselves. In their gangly kitten phase,” she explains, gesturing with her hands as if that helps Bow envision the shape of the roses. Whatever, he can google it later if he wants to. To her surprise, Glimmer’s eyes light up.

“Did Catra have a gangly kitten phase?” she asks, tone teasing as she leans around Adora to make eye contact and smirk at Catra just to be an asshole. Glimmer loves to needle Catra. Adora has never dated anyone – although, to be fair, neither has Glimmer – and she seems to have been saving up her annoying little sister routine.

Catra hisses at Glimmer, but her ears hardly even twitch back. “That was for show,” Adora translates as she takes another bite of her food. Catra narrows her eyes at Adora, but she turns back to her own plate. Adora realized pretty quickly after Catra started relaxing with her family that other people don’t _get_ comfortable Catra like she does. They assume all hisses are bad, that growling is always a threat, if an empty one. Her family is starting to learn, especially Glimmer and Bow since they spend the most time with her, but Adora has gotten used to translating to smooth things over. Casta still raises an eyebrow, but no one else does at this point.

“Catra never had an awkward phase. Not gangly, anyway. She grew up slow. I was tripping over my own feet when I shot up overnight. It was a disaster,” Adora answers, shrugging. Glimmer’s asshole grin doesn’t falter.

“So she wasn’t gangly, but she was _awkward,_ wasn’t she? The stories, Adora. I want to hear them,” Glimmer picks out. Adora feels herself blush, because she is right, that _is_ what Adora said, in a roundabout admittance. Normally Glimmer turns off her predatory negotiation sense once they get off work, but apparently she is willing to stay alert when it comes to opportunities to tease Catra. By her side, Catra growls. It is a warning for her, so Adora doesn’t really need to translate, but-

“That’s not a _serious_ warning,” Adora says. Angella looks downright _amused_ as Catra just growls louder, but the corner of her mouth is twitched up as well. “And, uh, _physically_ growing up wasn’t bad for Catra. But, well, she got banned from laundry duty because she climbed into the warm laundry from the dryer and scent-rolled it,” Adora explains.

Catra growing up had been hilarious, in retrospect, as she struggled to figure herself out and did a bunch of just _weird_ shit without the guidance of other magicats around to help her understand her own urges. Catra used to present her with mice, bugs, or even _leaves_ she had caught. At the time, Adora had just accepted them as gifts, but more recently she had looked it up. Some deep part of Catra's brain had been trying to show Adora she could provide for her. Having other magicats around would have helped, but also being able to just _talk_ about their feelings would have made things a lot clearer.

Catra growls, cheeks flushing as she does not look up to the other people at the table. “It was winter and it was _warm_. And your stuff was in that load,” Catra mutters, taking a sharp bite of her food, a clear attempt to cut off the conversation. Adora rolls her eyes. Catra could have waited until she got the stuff up to their room and just marked Adora’s things, but then Shadow would have been mad about her possessiveness rather than her _uncouth behaviour_. The punishment for the latter was sure to be far gentler.

“You did it again last week,” she points out. Adora had made no move to stop her as she plopped down in the middle of the laundry Adora was putting on hangers and folding. It was inconvenient, sure, but seeing Catra safe and content to crawl into the warmth and purr softly as she absently kneaded it had made Adora a bit breathless at the time.

Catra growls, taking another bite of her food as her ears pin back. “You got sent to the principal’s office for starting a fire in chemistry class,” Catra shoots back. She is trying to deflect, but Adora grins in response. _Wrong rebuttal_.

“I did that to get put in detention with you,” Adora points out. Catra slinks further down in her seat. Catra was just sent to detention for refusing to do her work, but Adora was kind of a teacher’s pet. If she refused to do her work for a day, her teachers would probably assume her was having a rough time and let it go. When their chemistry lab came up, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to spend the afternoon with Catra. Besides, Catra had an open switch wound that day and Adora didn’t want her to have to be alone.

“First shoplifting, and now fires?” Casta asks, raising an eyebrow as she looks at Adora. Glimmer's gaze immediately snaps to Adora in shock. Apparently Juliet told Casta the story, and Angella knows from when Adora was seventeen and a maid caught her hiding first-aid supplies in her bedroom, but the story clearly never made its way to Glimmer.

“We almost got arrested for trespassing once, but the cop was too cautious about approaching Catra when she was all snarly and we got away. That was- what, your fourteenth birthday?” Adora asks, looking to Catra. Adora truthfully has a lot of stories that are surprising to anyone who didn't grow up with her. Catra snorts, rolling her eyes.

“Fifteenth. We were ‘trespassing’ on the boardwalk at midnight after it was closed,” Catra explains. Adora feels herself smiling at the memory, running around the empty boardwalk, chasing and hiding from each other, laughing and roughhousing. Adora had wanted to kiss her at the end of the pier but chickened out. She thought she knew better than to try after how their last kiss had ended.

They are at the dinner table, but Adora leans over and presses a kiss to her ear because she _can_ now. Catra’s ear flicks beneath her and she blushes, but she purrs softly and accepts the affection. Bow coos in the background, because Catra has reached the point of comfort where he can do that now, but no one outright comments.

They spend the rest of dinner swapping stories until it is time for dessert. It is cheesecake, because traditional cake is just a lot of sweetness for Adora, and the entire family sings happy birthday for her. Stuff like this, swapping childhood stories and singing together, always made Adora uncomfortable on previous birthdays, but with Catra by her side this time, it comes naturally.

\--

“I really thought Glimmer might try to pull something. She has been dropping hints lately that we aren’t spending enough time together,” Adora muses as they make their way inside the house after they manage to extricate themselves from dinner. Catra rolls her eyes. Glimmer _has_ been dropping hints, but they are definitely culminating in a cousins shopping trip. None of the hints were subtle.

They make their way upstairs without actually saying why. They don’t need to. Catra can feel Adora’s excitement building as they make their way up to their room. When they reach their room, Catra pauses when she catches the way Adora is looking at her, a little reverent.

“What?” she questions, feeling herself blush and her tail lash to whip against her legs. She hasn’t _done_ anything, but Adora is looking at her with an expression bordering awe. Adora’s eyes soften, a smile spreading across her face as she takes a step closer and raises a hand to cup Catra’s cheek, wrapping her other arm around her waist.

“Just telling all those stories reminded me how lucky I am to have you again,” Adora tells her, softly, grinning when Catra stares up at her in response. Adora doesn’t give her time to process, bending down to kiss her readily. Catra lets out a soft noise that Adora seems to take as encouragement – probably because it _is_ – and Adora wraps her up in her arms, pulling their bodies together as she kisses her.

The kiss starts slow, but it quickly turns _not that_ as Catra feels a fire flare in her that has truthfully been there all day. Today was Adora’s day, Catra was happy to give it to her, but she also usually does not give up control so easily, and a part of her has been saying to take it _back_ ever since Adora made the joke about bending over for her in the dressing room. Catra kisses her with hunger, with heat and fire, causing Adora to moan softly, her lips giving beneath Catra's.

Catra licks into her mouth, nips at her lip, works her hands up to snap her ponytail holder so she can bury her hands in her hair and yank her down closer. Adora gives it to her easily, _happily_ , letting out small sighs and noises of contentment. At least until Catra catches a fang on her lip when she nips her and Adora lets out a loud moan, trembling a little beneath her. Adora pulls back from the kiss, causing Catra to growl in displeasure, but she doesn’t chase her. She licks her lips, observing her lover carefully. Her cheeks are flushed, gaze heated and hopeful.

“The bed?” she asks, all submissive hope in a way that makes Catra’s eyes flutter as a shudder runs down her spine. She drops both her hands to Adora’s hips, grip flexing. Adora’s eyes widen a bit, but she presses her lips together in an effort to stay silent and holds still for Catra.

“You mentioned something in the store. You still want that? Want to give up control?” Catra asks, looking up and knowing how heated her gaze must be. No way in hell Catra is bottoming tonight, but if this is too much she understands. It _isn’t_ , though, because Adora’s eyes practically spark with excitement as she nods, overeager like a puppy.

“Yes, Catra,” Adora says, voice breathy already in the way that tells Catra she is already willing to slip into the space. She feels her smile curling as she purrs to herself, her hands sliding to find the edge of Adora’s top and pull it up. Adora raises her arms instantly, letting Catra toss the clothes away, and then goes for her fly without needing to be told. Catra takes a step back, watching Adora’s flush spread as she realizes that Catra is blatantly watching her. She starts to pull down her jeans, but Catra stops her with a command.

“Underwear too, Adora. I want you naked. You don’t want to _delay_ me, do you?” Catra orders. Adora moans softly, but she shakes her head and instantly reaches up to pull down her underwear too. After she steps out of her pants, she reaches for her bra and pulls that off as well, tossing it aside and looking to Catra with a hopeful grin. A grin that says _I’ve done what you want_ but is also a bit cocky. Adora knows just how badly Catra _wanted_ it.

Catra ignores the grin. She is not the kind of top to want obedience. It would probably freak her out if Adora wasn’t a cocky asshole. She certainly wouldn’t be fucking the woman she fell in love with. Instead she enjoys the sight before her, sweeping her gaze long and slow over Adora’s soft skin. Adora was already strong when Catra found her again, but she swears that she has gotten even more jacked between the defence training, rock climbing, and weekly hiking.

Adora knows what she likes, so she adjusts her stance, standing tall and proud, outright _smirking_ at Catra now as she casually rolls her shoulders, causing her muscles to flex and stand out even more. Catra’s mouth feels dry – her _jeans_ are probably wet just from watching this – but two can play at this game Adora has started.

“You like showing off for me, princess? Showing me everything that is _mine_?” she asks, slinking forward and watching Adora’s eyes widen, her breath stutter in time with her thighs clenching. Catra grins as she begins to circle Adora, running her hands along all that beautiful skin. Adora shudders slightly beneath her possessive touch, but holds still for her. Denying it would be utterly pointless. She still might try.

“ _Yes_ , Catra,” Adora agrees, voice strained. Catra purrs in reward, ceasing her circling to press against Adora’s back so the vibrations can run straight through her – and so Catra can run her hands over her, groping at her chest and squeezing at the wonderful softness there, rapidly stiffening beneath her touch. Adora whines softly, shifting where she stands, but she makes no demands. She might be too far gone for it already.

“So beautiful,” Catra assures, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. Compliments don’t do much for Adora, she prefers praise for her behaviour than for her appearance, but Catra wants her to _know_ , wants her to understand that Catra likes what she sees. Catra presses another kiss to her shoulder, nips at it this time as she gets her fill of feeling Adora up – for the moment, anyway. Catra is never going to be _done_ feeling Adora’s body react to her, but she would like to rouse some stronger reactions now.

She drops her hands with a final squeeze and begins circling again, drinking in Adora’s whine at the loss of her with a grin that makes Adora huff and send her a heated look with a little too much desire in it for her to really sell as annoyed. Catra decides to take pity on her, pulling to a halt in front of her and turning to face her bodily.

“Be a good girl and undress me, Adora,” Catra orders. Adora lets out a downright _cute_ noise of excitement that probably doesn’t have any real place in the bedroom, but it makes Catra smile fondly as Adora slips her jacket from her shoulders, quickly folding it and setting it aside before she straightens and sets to work unbuttoning Catra’s shirt, kissing her way down her chest as she does so. Catra’s smile hasn’t faded, one hand dropping into Adora’s hair just to hold her as she kisses her way down.

“So sweet,” Catra praises as Adora works her way down her chest to sink to her knees. Adora lets out a soft, pleased noise as she presses a kiss just above her waistband, reaching up to pull her shirt down from her shoulders. Adora pauses only to set the shirt aside with the jacket before she is undoing Catra’s fly, hesitating for a moment to look up to her for permission before she pulls her underwear down with her jeans. Adora continues her path of kisses down her thigh until she has her jeans around her ankles.

Adora leans back, helping Catra step out of the pants. _Finally_ , they are both naked, but Adora does not rise. She stays kneeled on the floor, hands dropping to Catra’s calves and squeezing as she looks up at her, expression open and hopeful. Catra can’t help but chuckle, reaching out to thread her hand through Adora’s hair again, petting through it slowly. Adora leans into the touch instantly.

“Not now, princess. If that is still what you want after, you can have it,” Catra promises her. She needs to have Adora first. Adora shudders, her eyes falling closed, but she nods. She presses one last kiss to Catra’s thigh before she rises again, looking down at Catra with breathless anticipation. Catra feels herself grin, just as excited, especially because she knows what is _coming_.

“To the bed,” she orders. Adora lets out what seems to be a breath of relief, immediately turning and approaching their four-poster. Catra follows hot on her heels, reaching out and grabbing her hips to stop her before she gets in it. Adora lets out a soft moan at being stopped, but Catra hardly has to touch her for her to draw to a halt.

“Catra?” Adora asks, voice a little breathless as Catra presses up behind her again, only this time they are _both_ naked, and she feels her tail lash from her excitement. Between her legs is burning, now, and Adora has practically been dripping since she first stripped for Catra.

“Do you still want your request? Want me to bend you over?” Catra asks, her voice rough with desire. She wants to hear Adora say it, but she also needs to check in before they really do this. Adora moans, loud and open as her entire body twitches, almost, from how hard her thighs clench. Adora nods, words seemingly beyond her. She almost curls forward, overeager, but Catra tightens her grip and Adora forces her back straight again.

“Yes, sir,” Adora agrees, her voice breathless. Catra growls, possessive heat dragging through her at the words. Adora rarely uses honourifics. Catra never asked her to, but she started the first time she truly let go and completely submitted for Catra, and now it is almost a sign for them of how far she wants to go - how far she wants Catra to _push_ her.

“Ask me for it,” Catra demands, her grip tightening. It is what Adora wants, and Catra is more than happy to demand it. Adora moans, her breathing rapid with her anticipation now.

“Bend me over and fuck me. Take me,” Adora begs. It is all Catra’s self-control can take, one hand reaching up to bury in her hair while the other holds her hip firmly, holding her hips up as she forces her head down, bending her by the waist over the side of the bed. Adora offers no resistance, gasping with _relief_ as Catra positions her.

Catra places her leg between Adora’s ankles and nudges them further apart. Adora readjusts her stance easily, _displaying_ herself for Catra, but also bringing her hips down in line with the edge of the bed. Catra feels a rumble deep in her chest, pure satisfaction, as she strokes down Adora’s back in a soothing gesture, comforting and calming her after being manhandled.

“So good for me. I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you what you want,” Catra promises her. Adora moans and shudders, nodding eagerly against the sheets. She is turned with her cheek pressed into the bed, able to see Catra over her shoulder in her periphery, but not really able to make eye contact from the angle.

“I have a new toy for us, princess. You want me to go get it?” Catra asks, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You want me to go put it on so I can _take_ you?” she adds, _elaborates_ , really. Adora will know what she has now. She can agree or disagree. However Adora wants to be fucked is fine with Catra. She just wants to _have_ her now.

Adora gasps, her eyes widening as her loud moan fills the room. “ _Yes_. Please,” Adora begs, voice breathless. Catra feels herself grinning, bending down to press a soft kiss to Adora’s shoulder.

“I have it in the dresser. I’m going to go put it on. Wait here for me, just like this,” Catra tells her. It is as much an order as an assurance. Catra can hardly take it if Adora is not crushing her against her chest while Catra is giving up control. She needs Adora with her, against her, to feel safe. If not, it pulls her out of it, risks ruining the night. Adora is not quite as needy when she submits, it comes far more naturally to her since she is actually _submissive_ , but she almost always wants to be in contact still. Catra does not want to leave her without assuring her first.

“I’ll be still. I’ll be good,” Adora promises, breathless, despite how she squirms a little when she says it. It is still enough for Catra – it is that lack of total obedience that she likes. She presses one last kiss between Adora’s shoulder blades before she pulls back to go put on the strap.

\--

Listening to the sounds of Catra putting on the harness is enough to have Adora twitching again. Having Catra return and then completely disregard the change and just return to stroking and kissing along Adora's back is enough to have her _lose her mind_ , whining and squirming beneath her, trying to fight how her hips twitch back and failing. Adora gasps, a whine laced in it and _uncaring_ when she feels the toy brush against her. Catra lets her feel it, slipping it over her and through her slick, but she doesn’t fuck Adora like she _promised_.

“Catra, please, I want you to fuck me. I need it,” Adora begs, hands tightening to fist the comforter. She feels so keyed up now that the heat between her legs is all she can think about, nothing else mattering but finally having Catra inside her. Above her, Catra groans, the toy pressing insistently against her now, but not _in_.

“You want it, Adora? Then take it. Show me how _much_ you can take,” Catra orders above her. Adora moans, high and breathy, and stops fighting the twitch of her hips, pushing back onto the toy. She can’t stop herself from crying out as it finally presses in, as she presses herself back on it, but it feels so good to be _full_ after so much desperation. Catra gasps herself, groaning quietly as Adora takes her. The toy doesn't feel bigger than the vibe Adora has in her dresser that she has used a handful of times. Adora shudders as she presses her hips back, taking all of it and moaning when her hips meet Catra’s.

“Good girl. I knew you could take it. Hold still for me now, princess,” Catra tells her. Adora moans at the praise, nodding against the comforter and feeling her breath quicken with anticipation. _Finally_ , Catra’s hands fall to her hips, pulling her up a little to readjust her, and then Catra _rocks_ her. Adora loses herself, moaning and gasping as Catra thrusts into her, the toy pounding in and _filling_ her in a way the vibe never did. Somehow, despite the features, toys have never quite felt like they fill her like Catra’s fingers do, but this time is different. Maybe just because this toy feels like it is still _Catra_ with her hips driving it in, but it has Adora squirming and moaning.

Her thoughts are whiting out, nothing really mattering but the mounting pressure between her legs, the smack against her ass as Catra drives into her, the tightening grip of her hands on Adora’s hip and the _praises_ spilling out of Catra mouth as she tells her how _good_ she is, how pretty she sounds, how good it feels to fuck her.

“You take me so well, princess. So desperate to be mine,” Catra pants out, voice rough and possessive. Adora cries out, pressing her hips back to meet Catra on the next thrust, _needing_ it.

“Yours. All yours,” Adora promises, clutching the sheets and shaking beneath Catra’s answering possessive growl.

“All mine. I have you. Tell me how much you love it, princess,” Catra orders. Adora whimpers, the words for _that_ far beyond her.

“I love you. I love being yours. I – _ah_ – I love the way you fuck me,” Adora promises, cutting off to cry out on the next, rough thrust. She is trembling now, Catra’s pace almost too intense and also not enough, not yet, she just needs _this_.

“Good girl. So good for me. You can come for me now, Adora,” Catra tells her. Oh. Adora just needs _that_ , because as soon as Catra says it, the wave crests high in her, burning her from the inside out as she shakes and moans beneath Catra’s thrusts, all her senses burning down in the face of the heatwave. Adora shakes, the desperate hunger finally dying down, finally fed by Catra. She feels Catra pull out distantly, regretfully, but Catra returns to stroking down her back, kissing along the length of it and petting her through the aftershocks as she slowly comes back to herself.

Adora is panting – probably from all the desperate noises – quivering a little against the side of the bed where she is now _slumped_. “You did so well, Adora. You were so good for me. Are you up for getting in the bed, now? I want you to lie down,” Catra asks, still stroking, petting, and kissing. Adora manages a weak hum beneath the attention, feeling it slowly pull her back down to earth.

“Yeah,” she breathes, the best agreement she can give. Catra pulls back just enough to let her up, keeping her hands on her, _gentle_ , so she knows she is still there as Adora slowly pulls herself to her feet and then promptly climbs in the bed, flopping down in it and turning on her side to finally see Catra properly again.

She sees the harness for the first-time, swallowing as she takes in the toy. It is _definitely_ bigger than the vibe Adora has, though not by too much. She still might have been intimidated by it if she hadn’t already _taken_ it. Catra grins at her, reaching down to undo the straps and step out of it. Adora licks her lips as she watches. Catra throws her a satisfied smirk once she has it off, crossing the room and placing the harness on top of the dresser. They can clean it later – fuck, they can clean it in the morning. Adora has to suppress a whine just at Catra walking so far away; she certainly doesn’t want her disappearing into the bathroom right now.

Catra hurries back from the dresser at least, climbing into the bed and smiling softly when Adora reaches for her, letting her grab her and pull her in to fold Catra against her chest.

“I love you. You did really good,” Catra promises her again, kissing her cheek and wrapping around her in turn. Adora shudders, pressing in and rolling them over so Catra is laid out beneath her. She just needs to have her in her arms right now. Catra purrs, nuzzling into her happily as she lets Adora drape over her. “Don’t fall asleep on top of me,” she warns, even as she yawns herself. Adora is actually _exhausted_ after getting fucked like that, but-

“I won’t. I still need to take care of you,” Adora promises, turning her head to press a kiss to Catra’s temple. Catra shakes her head a little beneath her.

“In the morning. As much as I love fucking you like that, I’m tired now. I’m content,” Catra promises her, nuzzling in as Adora flushes at her words. As much as she wants to give back, she is tired too. She just wants to have Catra close in her arms, and Catra seems happy to comply, letting Adora bundle her up to her chest and kiss her ears. She can wait until morning. In the meantime, she at least has Catra content against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The jacket is designer, but not actually Gucci. Adora doesn't know shit about designers so pretty much Gucci is her default assumption. It drives Glimmer a little crazy. "That's Gucci right?" "Adora, the clasp is an L and a V" "So?" " _It's Louis Vuitton._ "  
> Catra was the bug kid confirmed. The catching things for Adora is a reference to the "Ask Catra" Noelle did where she mentioned leaving a mouse in Adora's shoe.  
> All flower meanings are according to Google, but:  
> White peony: shame, shyness, regret, or apology (They were Hope's favourite, but also Adora is sorry she lost them and then couldn’t find them). Violets: truth and loyalty, + wisdom, humility. Baby’s breath: everlasting love and purity.


	16. ACT II: Origins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References for the later shopping scene: [Bow’s cropped tuxedo shirt](https://www.chanel.com/us/fashion/p/20K-PODIUM-054/look-54/), [Versace sports bra](https://www.versace.com/us/en-us/women/clothing/underwear-socks/bras/versace-x-pride-sports-bra-a1008/AUD70000-A232185_A1008.html).  
> Hordak is pleading not guilty. It’s not going to work out for him. His defense team told him that and he fired them and decided to represent himself. That’s not going to work out either.

Returning to the office should not be this hard after _one_ extra day off. Truthfully, it is not work that is stressing Adora; it is trying to squeeze in her investigation around her spare moments. Free time is rare as is, and she is spending it digging through the financial records of Prime Industries from twenty years ago. It might be easier to trace than the modern, encrypted payments, but when so many of the accounts, records, and even _banks_ are now defunct, it leads to more dead ends than the modern, untraceable payments did.

It is all she has, though. Hordak only kept the last ten years of records, and he has refused to talk. She sets after the finances with a laser focus, hoping to find _someone_ who paid in that year that could possibly have a grudge on Mara or Hope. It is hard to. So far, none of them have any links to her mothers. If she could figure out what the _deliverable_ was it might help, but nothing that was found in the apartment was worth even stealing, much less killing over.

She is frustrated, glaring at her computer screen in one of her rare breaks from true work. If she had laser vision, her monitor would be dust right now. Catra’s hand on her shoulder is light, massaging gently. She knows just how to bring Adora out of one of her focused states without _shattering_ it, but she still feels a bit disoriented when she blinks up at Catra’s apologetic expression.

“You have a meeting in five minutes,” she reminds. Adora groans, looking back at her screen. She is making progress – on tracing payments at least, even if she has nothing on someone who might want to hurt Hope or Mara. She doesn’t _want_ to stop now, but this isn’t her job, even if she is more than allowed to work on it during work hours as long as her duties get done. Adora stands reluctantly, trying not to be irritated. It does not work _well_.

\--

Catra accompanies Adora into nearly every meeting now. It started during the scare with the Horde, but after the arrangements had already been made for Catra to have a seat beside Adora, it just stuck. She feels fucking terrible to be abandoning Adora to this meeting alone when she is clearly having a rough day, but she doesn’t have much of a choice when Juliet calls her away.

When Catra returns to collect her, Adora comes out of the meeting with her mouth pressed in a thin line and her shoulders tensed. She snatches Catra’s hand immediately, practically dragging her to her office. She hardly waits for Catra to finish her security sweep before she takes her hand again. To her surprise, instead of leading her to the couch, she walks around to the kitchenette, and then into the _bathroom_.

“Uh, Adora?” Catra asks, in the half second before Adora has turned and locked the door behind them. She gets her answer when Adora turns back around and presses her against the wall with a burning kiss. Catra does not know why she felt the need to do this _here_ , considering they have already made out on the couch in Adora’s office an undefined number of times that is certainly too high, but Adora’s hands are twitching when they land on her waist, so Catra just tilts her head back and accepts the kiss.

Adora needs this, right now. Their secret to avoiding a stress collapse for the last three months has been a combination of cuddles, purring, and making out when Adora gets stressed enough her body is close to giving out. Catra enforcing the weekends as a work-free zone has also helped, but it can only do so much when Adora’s work gets too stressful. If Adora wants to have a dirty make out in her private bathroom, Catra certainly is not going to say _no_ , not on any average day and not today especially.

Adore pulls back from the kiss just far enough to look down at her, her eyes dark and hungry. “This okay?” she asks, a little breathless. Catra rolls her eyes, but she nods. Adora grins, and then _drops to her knees_ , looking up at Catra as her hands come up to her hips. “And this?” she asks, her voice turning husky. Catra could choke on her own damn tongue looking down at Adora, perfectly composed in her button-up, waistcoat, and suit pants, but on her _knees_ with her thumbs rubbing purposeful circles at the waistband of Catra’s pants.

“Adora, we’re at _work_ ,” Catra hisses, despite her blush and the way her fur is starting to stand on end. This is the absolute last thing they should be doing at Alliance. They have had sex in the office once, but there was a lot of stress going on then, and it was not _this_. Adora actually grins up at her, a little of the tension leaking out of her as she leans forward to kiss Catra’s thigh through her pant leg. Catra swallows at the sight. She _should_ be the responsible one and stop this, but that is usually Adora's job. The tension in Adora’s shoulders almost hurts to look at. A little slipped away just from the kiss.

Catra is doing a lot of things in her head to justify the action she is about to take as she reaches down to place her hand on Adora’s head, pulling her closer. Adora actually lets out a sigh of relief, eyes falling closed as she leans forward to nuzzle into her hip. The edge of her anxiety instantly softens as she leans in. Catra feels herself swallow thickly, not totally able to stop herself given the sight before her.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Adora?” Catra asks, softly. This is a terrible idea. She is still going to do it. Adora nods against her hip, eyes opening to look up at her pleadingly.

“Yes. I need to take care of you right now,” Adora tells her. Catra feels a pang in her chest, but she nods. Adora’s eyes light up, her hands reaching for Catra’s fly. She undoes it with a driven efficiency, pulling her pants and underwear down in one motion to bunch around her ankles. Catra feels herself blushing, unable to tear her eyes away from Adora nuzzling in and kissing along her hip as she leans back against the wall, totally naked from the waist down. She still has her fucking suit jacket on.

Adora doesn’t care as she leans forward, letting out a soft noise of contentment as she kisses directly against Catra, making her tighten her hand on her head. Adora takes it for the encouragement it is, opening her mouth to lick along her, starting to _work_ her with her mouth, keeping the touch gentle as she eases Catra into it. The sight of Adora kissing, licking, _sucking_ her may be hot, but it is fucking nothing compared to watching the tension leak out of Adora’s body as she eats her out.

Adora repositions her hands, forcing Catra’s thighs as wide apart as they’ll go with her suit pants still caught. Catra lets her, watching in awe as Adora moans, soft and quiet, in time with every one of Catra’s bitten off noises. Catra tries to be quiet, but it is hard to be silent when every sound she releases causes Adora to sigh in turn, makes her shudder as a visible peace spreads through her, like there is nowhere in the world that she is happier to be than between Catra’s thighs. It is probably true. Nothing gets Adora off like _giving._

Adora drops a hand from Catra's hip to fall between her own legs, touching herself through her clothes with a soft noise. Her tongue never falters, but the rest of the tension in her shoulders just melts away. Adora is quickly becoming skilled with her tongue, setting about learning how to make Catra fall apart with a determined efficiency, but when Catra’s orgasm rushes into her limbs, takes her over in a wave that makes her lightheaded and tremble, it is as much as from the sight before her as it is the touch. From seeing the utter relaxation Adora gets from tasting her, how it forces her to touch herself even in her _suit_.

Catra manages to be quiet when she comes, arching into Adora’s mouth and screwing her eyes up until they water from the effort, but she nearly slumps down the wall afterwards, her limbs shaking with the sudden intensity coming up on her like a fucking car crash, taking over her body like a goddamn _possession._ Adora catches her, wrapping her in her arms as she rises to her feet again, holding her and breathing heavily herself as Catra trembles through the aftershocks and struggles to fight down the bloodrush in her veins.

“Fuck, Adora,” Catra manages to pant, quietly, raising her head to look up at Adora with what she knows must be wide eyes. Adora grins down at her, easy and flushed. She _definitely_ got off while Catra was shaking and panting. “You- did good,” she manages. Adora’s grin widens, like she knew it would, but she also knows she needs the praise right now, even if she is still going to be an asshole about it. Adora leans down, going to kiss her. Catra _hates_ turning her head away, hates the flash of panic she sees in Adora’s eyes more, but-

“If you kiss me right now, people will be able to smell it on us. Let’s get cleaned up, and then I’ll sneak into the break room and get you a soda. You can have all the kisses you want after you drink it,” she promises, reaching up to stroke the back of her head, hoping to soothe her. The panic drains away easily, Adora smiling fondly down at her.

“Okay, but I’m holding you to that,” Adora agrees. She totally will. Catra just smiles and shakes her head, fond of her idiot.

“There’s really no need,” she promises her.

\--

Adora has just popped the top on her soda when Catra stiffens, her eyes landing on the door as _panic_ becomes clear in her face. Adora freezes, looking to her with concern. “Drink your soda, Adora,” Catra tells her, still looking at the door, but clearly trying to collect herself. Adora hesitates a moment more, but she takes a drink.

Glimmer knocks on her door. She knows it is Glimmer because it is an utterly botched version of Juliet’s secret knock. It is the closest Glimmer ever came to learning it. Now she understands Catra’s sudden tenseness, but it – hopefully – will not be a problem. Nobody without increased senses should be able to pick up anything odd about them right now, and hopefully by the time they have to leave no one else will be able to either.

Adora sips her drink while Catra approaches the door, shaking herself to work out the sudden tension as she goes. It helps that she is a little _limp_ after her orgasm. Adora has made her come standing before, but she has never _fallen over_ afterwards. Catra’s body just wants to be relaxed right now, and it helps the anxiety slip from her again as she answers the door.

Adora raises her eyebrow when she sees Glimmer enter the room without Bow. Bow waves to her over Glimmer’s shoulder before he turns and walks on. Glimmer sends her a _shut up_ glare she usually only feels the need to use in front Angella. Adora still dutifully shuts up until Catra has closed and locked the door again, Glimmer crossing the room and flinging herself onto the sofa.

“Where’s Bow going?” Adora asks, turning her chair to face her cousin and taking another long drink. There is no way Glimmer would be able to tell, but still, she feels the need to be safe. Glimmer would never let her live this down. She still brings up the time Adora was late when she runs out of ammo. Glimmer shoots her a glare.

“ _Away_ ,” she answers. Sulking is hard to pull off in a Chanel suit, but Glimmer is doing pretty well at it as she crosses her arms and slouches back into the sofa. Clearly she is too caught up in her own shit to notice any of the clues as to what just happened.

“Did you two… fight?” Adora asks, feeling a bit out of her depth. Glimmer is almost never mad at Bow. She doesn’t _think_ she is mad now, but she doesn’t seem happy. Glimmer sighs, shaking her head and sitting up – kind of. More, at least.

“I sent him to help Juliet. Just needed some time without him. I told him Catra could call if something happened,” Glimmer tells her, rolling her eyes. She clearly does not want to talk about it. Catra raises her eyebrow, crossing to join her in the lounge. She settles in the armchair that faces Adora, watching Glimmer out of the corner of her eye with clear suspicion.

“Thanks for adding to my duties,” she says, dryly. Glimmer throws her a winning smile that has never won over anybody, ever, but Glimmer often still bulldozes on ahead without the approval anyway.

“I wanted to check on you after that meeting. Angella said you weren’t looking great coming out of it,” Glimmer says, eyeing Adora. Adora feels herself blush, but she shrugs – and takes another sip.

“I’m okay, now. We’ll see what happens when I actually get back to work, but I’m fine,” Adora tells her. Glimmer, to her surprise, just nods and accepts it. Clearly she is more caught up in whatever is going on with her and Bow than Adora first thought, if she is willing to just _accept_ when Adora says she is fine. They definitely fought, even if Bow does not know it.

Sometimes he says things that upset Glimmer without realizing it – because they _shouldn’t_ , not if Glimmer was just his friend, but she has not thought of him as _just_ that since college. It always turns into her ranting at Adora because she can’t say anything about it to him since he has not actually done anything wrong. Recently, it also results in Catra staring at Adora with baleful eyes while Glimmer talks _both_ their ears off.

“How are you two doing? You had your whole long lover’s weekend together,” Glimmer asks. Catra coughs, turning away to hide a flush, but it does nothing to hide her tail thudding heavily against her armchair. Adora throws her a grin, which Catra responds to with a glare, ears twitched back and still flushed.

“Great. We had a lot of fun. We went rock climbing again on Saturday and stuff. I’m getting better at it,” Adora summarizes for Glimmer, shrugging. Glimmer pauses, turning to look at Catra.

“Catra?” Glimmer prompts. Catra looks a little surprised, almost suddenly caught, her eyes darting between Glimmer and Adora.

“What? We went rock climbing,” Catra tries, shrugging. Glimmer narrows her eyes, flicking her gaze between the two of them. Adora does not know what she is expecting them to _say_. They did not really leave the house aside from their rock-climbing excursion and Catra making another secret trip out on Sunday. Adora, once again, has not seen the results of the trip yet. Catra warned her that, like the outfit, it was something for _special occasions_ , so it may be awhile yet.

She definitely needs to think about anything but _that_ right now. Luckily, Glimmer and Catra are having a very distracting stare down. Adora does not know what Glimmer wanted out of an answer, really. When Adora and Catra go out it has almost exclusively been for necessary shopping or for one of their athletic hobbies they can’t do at home. They did nothing out of character this weekend.

Glimmer turns bodily to face Catra, practically ignoring Adora. Catra’s fur starts bristling immediately. Even under her suit jacket, Adora can tell, though she is not sure Glimmer can. Catra has come a long way in the last three months, but she likes to keep anything about their relationship private. It is too vulnerable for her to be comfortable sharing it with others. Adora does not know why Glimmer is pushing this, but it is making Catra uncomfortable.

“Glimmer, do you _want_ to hear about the sex we had this weekend or what?” Adora cuts in, raising an eyebrow and gripping the arms of her chair to keep herself still. It has the exact affect she was hoping – Glimmer immediately flushes and starts sputtering, breaking eye contact with Catra. Catra breathes a sigh of relief and slinks down in her chair now whatever confrontation was about to take place is cut off. Adora does not give, continuing to fix Glimmer with a hard look as she struggles to breathe again.

“ _Adora_ , we’re at work,” Glimmer reminds her, in a very different tone than Catra had said it in earlier. Adora shoots a secretive look to Catra that has her flushing immediately and quickly standing. She crosses the room to Adora’s desk, climbing into Adora’s lap and covering her mouth with her hand, fixing her with a heated look. Her tail is lashing behind her.

“Which is why she is going to _shut up_ now,” Catra returns, narrowing her eyes down at her. The look doesn’t help Adora be normal in _any way_ , but Adora nods beneath her hand and smiles, hoping the placating expression reaches her eyes. Catra still looks suspicious, but she drops her hand and then immediately reaches for Adora’s drink, passing the can to her with a raised eyebrow.

The message is clear. Adora dutifully takes a drink as Catra rearranges herself to be sitting with her back against Adora’s chest, facing Glimmer as she finally recovers from her coughing fit. Adora sets her drink back down, wrapping her arms around Catra’s waist to hold her close – maybe to form a defensive barrier, too – as Glimmer regains the ability to look them in the eye. Actually, scratch that, she immediately looks away again.

“Seriously, Glimmer, what is up?” Adora asks, now it seems _safe_ to. If not, she has her hands on Catra now. Actually, _there_ is a thought. Adora rearranges to have one arm around Catra’s waist and raises the other hand to scratch behind Catra’s ears, hoping to calm her. Catra relaxes against her immediately, apparently still all-too willing to go boneless after being loosened by her orgasm, despite the tenseness with Glimmer.

Oddly, when Glimmer looks back at them, she looks kind of _sad_ , sending them a searching look. “How did you two figure it out?” she asks. Adora blinks at her in surprise for a moment before remembering Glimmer is asking a question about their relationship again. She redoubles her efforts to scratch at Catra’s ears, but Catra does not seem to be bothered this time. She looks over at Glimmer appraisingly.

“Just tell him you love him already,” Catra advises, rolling her eyes. Glimmer blushes, but she huffs immediately to cover it, narrowing her eyes at Catra.

“We’ve been friends for a decade, I’m his boss, and he lives in my house. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. That’s why I’m asking how you two did it,” Glimmer explains, her voice high from her stress. Adora just looks at her, because there is no way that what worked for _them_ could possibly work for Bow.

“Well first, Bow has to kill some people, or the conversation won’t make sense-“ Catra starts, because apparently she is having the same thought. Usually references to Catra’s _previous profession_ make Glimmer a bit uncomfortable. She knows Catra had no choice, and she is able to ignore it most of the time, but explicit references like this usually have her trying not to react. Today she is too caught up to even be bothered. She glares at Catra, which she just responds to with a lazy, sharp-toothed grin. Glimmer turns her glare on Adora instead, a bit imploring.

“You will also need to have kissed when you were thirteen but been too scared to even talk about it for fear of your foster guardian hurting one of you,” Adora adds, shrugging. Glimmer groans, dropping her head in her hands, but Adora is not just trying to be difficult, she actually has a _point_ to this. “Glimmer, we aren’t you two and our relationship is complicated as hell. You need to just talk to him,” Adora tells her. Glimmer glares at her, because that was absolutely not the answer she wanted. Luckily, Catra offers an alternative.

“Or just jump him. Worked for us,” Catra adds. Adora flushes in time with Glimmer, shifting her hand on Catra’s side to pinch her.

“She _didn’t_ jump me. Just talk to him. _That_ was what worked,” Adora refutes. Catra totally jumped her, even if they didn’t have sex. There was a lot of emotional conversation proceeding that make out, though, and that was definitely the most important part. Catra smirks, flicking her tail up to push Adora’s chin up from underneath _just_ to be an asshole, but she doesn’t correct her.

Glimmer groans in defeat and flings herself back on the sofa. “Neither of you are any help,” she complains, splaying out. Adora looks at her incredulously.

“Sorry, did you actually want help from _me_ with emotional stuff? I made my _therapist cry_ , Glimmer,” she points out. Catra cackles and Glimmer snorts.

“Yeah, okay, fair point,” she concedes.

\--

Glimmer mopes in Adora’s office for another twenty minutes before Bow knocks on the door, startling her so bad she almost falls off the sofa. Catra heard him coming and could have warned her, but a part of her was hoping he would overhear her and just make a move so she doesn’t have to _deal_ with all this anymore. This is not the first time she has come to Adora’s office to wallow.

Catra is just relieved that Adora cut Glimmer off before she could keep asking pointed questions about the weekend. She suspects Glimmer knows about her solo excursion on Sunday, and she fears that she might even know where she went – or at least, the kind of store. Her purchases are hidden safely in the guest room to keep them out of Adora’s way for now. She does not plan for them to be there long, hopefully only until the weekend, but Glimmer coming close to it had panicked her.

She is glad to be alone with Adora again. Adora finished her soda while Glimmer was still there, and she calls Catra over readily, with an absolutely _smug_ grin every time, as if Catra is not more than happy to slip into her lap and reward her with kisses every time she answers an email. It helps to keep Adora relaxed until the late afternoon, at least, when she manages to work through her duties and is just waiting on replies.

It gives her the time to turn back to her Prime research, which has been going nowhere – and Catra suspects _will go_ nowhere. Even with a shortlist of people who paid in, none of them have any obvious ties to Hope and Mara, and if Adora was going to turn up anything that could reveal a grudge she would have found it in the five years she has been working on this already. Adora is relying on being able to do it because she managed it with Entrapta, but Catra suspects it is fruitless, even if the payment for the hit is still traceable after all these years.

She watches frustration, desperation, and sadness creep back into Adora as she works, and it makes her chest hurt. She wants Adora smiling like she had been earlier. She wants her needling her sister about her non-existent love life. She knows Adora needs her closure – she knows more than anything Adora just wants to find Mara’s body – but she is sure there has to be another way.

Catra watches her stare at the list of names she has found so far like one of them is going to be an anagram for _death to Grayskull_. She has already researched all of them. She found none with anything connecting them to Hope and Mara, but very few she could definitely rule out as being unable to have had contact with them. Still, chasing down connections to Hope and Mara clearly is not _working_.

“Have you tried _you_ yet?” Catra prompts, when she comes over to press a kiss to Adora’s forehead. She didn’t ask for it, but she does need it. Adora startles, blinking up at her in surprise.

“Have I tried me?” she echoes, clearly confused. Catra nods towards the list of names, redirecting her attention back to it.

“Have you tried linking any of these people to yourself instead of Hope and Mara? They dropped off the grid after graduation, right?” Catra asks, watching Adora. She always feels weird trying to help Adora, given her connection to the hit itself and the fact that she missed five years of work on the case. She only made a break in it by the sheer misfortune of having personally known Grizzlor.

She never wants to step on Adora’s toes with this. Any suggestion she gives, Adora likely has already tried – in fact, she knows Adora _has_ tried to track down where she came from and turned up nothing. The lack of information available drives Adora a bit crazy. When they were reviewing a statement by a close friend of Mara’s – before she and Hope bolted, anyway – Adora actually _growled_ when she noticed the woman said Mara had an internship senior year. Adora launched into a rant about her academic transcript proving it was junior year and how it was like no one _cared_ enough to remember anything about them even in the initial interviews after they vanished, when it was still recent and a missing persons case.

It was not really a damning lack of detail, but Adora had sounded so frustrated, so upset at how _no one remembers_. The delay between the murders and her investigation have led to a lot of missing information. Mara must have gotten pregnant the summer after graduation, right around the time she and Hope ran, but none of her friends remembered her talking about having a child – not _soon_ anyway. Mara wrote her thesis on the recent advances in medical technology that allowed for lesbians to have biological children together, but everybody recalled the interest as academic and hypothetical – clearly _not_.

Adora blinks up at her at the suggestion, expression owlish. Catra cringes internally under her gaze. She _knows_ Adora has tried this before, but she was hoping this list could give her a new starting point.

“I can’t. I don’t know where I come from. The hospital records show Mara as my mother, but my DNA proves that isn’t the case. I don’t know where they got me from,” Adora tells her, shrugging and looking back towards the list.

Apparently Catra has been _too_ cautious. She stares at Adora in shock. Adora had told her about the hospital records. She had told her that Mara was infertile and was not her mother by DNA, but Catra had not realized the conclusions she had drawn – not when Adora had told her the records were verified as genuine. She thought she had understood what Adora was saying, but apparently _Adora_ had not.

No one remembers, true. It has been over twenty years since their murder, twenty-three since Adora’s birth. But even _not remembering_ , there were nurses on duty, the doctor who delivered her, the administrative staff to sign off on the records and issue the birth certificate. There were birth vitals and hospital check-out times. It doesn’t make _sense_ for all of that to be faked – either by forgery or bribe. Catra's own false identity is hardly a birth certificate and a drivers license. Of course, Adora has never had to _fake her identity_ before. She doesn't know it does not work like that.

“Adora, unless they managed to scrape together the money to bribe the entire maternity ward, that means _Mara gave birth to you_. You just have to see if any of these people ever had anything to do with egg donation,” Catra tells her, gesturing to the list again. Adora hesitates for a moment, looking at the list with wide eyes, but doubt clouds them like she can’t take _hoping_ and she shakes her head.

“I looked into that angle too. She never visited a clinic, and if she got an egg implanted, she would be considered a surrogate, not the mother. It would be my biological mother’s name on the birth certificate,” Adora points out. Catra looks down at her and raises an eyebrow.

“Sure, maybe that is how it is _supposed_ to work, but how the hell at they going to know if she doesn’t tell them? Skintone doesn’t mean shit when her wife is an immortal, and they _watched_ her give birth. They have no way of knowing unless she says something, and if she used some sort of illegal service it would explain why you couldn’t find it and why she didn’t reveal it,” Catra points out. Adora’s gaze drops to the list on the computer, her eyes blinking slowly as she processes that. As she processes, probably for the first time ever, that Mara really is her mother.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Adora says, and then she leans forward and gets to work.

\--

There is a way things are supposed to work, and Adora has always played by the rules. They are comforting, give her structure and win conditions. She might be a little more _flippant_ about the law than most people expect given all that, but a part of her inherently expects the rules to be followed. It made her overlook something huge.

The theories of Adora’s origins had been varied. With one of her potential parents ruled out by DNA and the other inconclusive, it had seemed obvious that something was falsified, but Catra is right; the hospital records from her birth are definitive. They show the exact minute she was born at and log all her vitals, her birth weight, the length of her stay before her parents took her home that night. The records made no sense to her, knowing Mara couldn’t be her mom by DNA – but they make sense now, accepting that Mara _is_ by birth.

It explains why Adora has never found _anything_ on herself before. Hope was a partial match for her DNA father, potential and unconfirmed, but _potential_. If Catra is right, she likely really is Adora’s father – and it suddenly makes sense why somebody would want her parents taken out, if they were involved in an illegal deal or the cover up of a shady "legal" one. The deliverable could very well have been Adora's birth certificate, stowed in the family fire safe. This answer only leads to more questions, but that is _good_. New leads, new angles to chase. It breathes life into her stuttering investigation just as she fears it is going to draw to a halt again.

Catra enforces breaks, like she always has, but with new leads to chase, Adora starts investing most of her free time into the case. Evenings are still a dedicated work-free time, but that just means she is extra busy at work as she chases down her leads. Catra is with her every step of the way – every moment of the day, truthfully – so she knows Catra does not feel neglected, not with Adora still making sure to make time for her, but apparently Glimmer _is_.

She marches into Adora’s office on Friday afternoon, just before it is time to go home, and takes Adora’s arm, ignoring the way Catra’s ears flatten and her eyes narrow in response, loudly declaring it is time for a shopping trip. Adora finds herself pulled from her work as Glimmer drags her from the room. They linger just long enough for Catra to lock up and secure the office before Glimmer continues her warpath. It takes convincing, but they part in the parking lot after agreeing on meeting at the Macy’s in the mall.

“I’m sorry,” Adora tells Catra as they drive. Catra has already ditched her suit jacket, tie, and top three buttons, not wanting to go to the mall in her suit at _all_ , much less tightly buttoned up. Adora is still wearing her gray button-up and today’s red waistcoat. She also would prefer to not be wearing black slacks and dress shoes at the mall, but she knows Glimmer won’t let them stop at home to change. There are too many opportunities there for them to wiggle out of this.

“She has been hinting for the last two weeks. As much as I don’t want to get dragged around designer boutiques, you do need a break,” Catra returns, shrugging. Her tail is flicking back and forth, and Adora has yet to rule out if it is irritation. Actually, she is pretty sure it _is_ irritation, regardless of her words.

They find parking in the garage and make their way to the department store entrance. Glimmer and Bow are easy to spot. Bow is wearing his black work suit and Glimmer is a beacon of _pink_ and sparkling just a little in her excitement. They are near the entrances to the designer outlets contained in the department store and Adora can already see three different sales associates eyeing her from the various stores. They are fools if any of them think they are going to sway Glimmer into coming over – a rolling boulder will go wherever the hell it pleases.

“Do we have a goal today?” Adora asks when they join the couple – not-couple, whatever. She likes to know the rules going into these shopping trips. The first time she had gone with Glimmer to designer stores, she spent almost the entire time trying not to feel or _be_ sick looking at the price tags. She had run out of the Chanel store when she felt outright tears coming. It took Glimmer and Bow twenty minutes to track her down, huddling on a bench in a seating area, flashbacks of every time she had to steal a four dollar bandage overrunning her head.

Adora does not understand the purpose of _designer_. She gets craftsmanship, and investment, and that she alone can’t solve all the world’s inequalities, but she does not understand paying for a name. It was almost a year before Adora and Glimmer went shopping again. They stayed clear of the designer outlets, even if places like Macy’s seemed plenty expensive anyway. It took Adora awhile, but she _has_ gotten used to this. She still does not usually buy designer things for herself, but she can stand to visit the stores at least now and put it from her mind.

Glimmer shakes her head at the question, smiling broadly, almost like she is proud to be shopping with no point. Adora sighs, but at least she knows what to expect - Glimmer dragging her to the nearest shiny thing, sometimes with the intent to buy it and sometimes to mock it. They start how they usually do, drifting aimlessly around the main floor of the department store, not looking for anything in particular. Adora does her best to keep an eye on Catra's mood as they make their way towards the designer outlets.

This is Catra’s first time on a trip like this. They all went out to some small boutiques two weeks back because Glimmer insisted on a trip to buy Adora a birthday present, but the boutiques were less expensive and overwhelming. Adora does not have half of Catra’s senses and even she finds small stores easier to handle. Luckily, Catra seems largely fine, distantly annoyed at worst, as she trails at Adora’s shoulder. Glimmer grabs Bow’s hand and pulls him to the window of the Louis Vuitton store, already chattering about something in the window. Adora glances down to her left, holding out her own hand hopefully. Catra rolls her eyes, but she takes Adora’s hand with a small smile.

“Come on, we’re going to lose your sister and her boytoy,” Catra tells her. Adora rolls her eyes now, but she sets off after Glimmer, still holding Catra’s hand.

\--

The shopping trip may be a special kind of hell, but Catra kind of enjoys it. Sure, the mall is noisy and a little over-perfumed, but the department store is not too crowded, even if Catra has to stay on high alert in such a public area. The designer boutiques – though stupid, and stuck up, and _stupid_ – are largely empty except for the staff and the occasional patron.

It is still fun to point out a cropped tuxedo shirt and look at Bow with a raised eyebrow despite it being a women’s shirt. He has the pecs to wear it anyway, with its loose fit, and Adora laughs hard enough at the idea of him wearing it to Alliance that the sales associate pulls it for them. Glimmer ends up buying it, chuckling about it as she does so and pretending that hides her flush. The trip is a case of contradictions and cognitive dissonance. One moment they are all joking, just four friends on a shopping trip, and the the next Glimmer is spending two thousand dollars on a pink handbag and Catra has to force herself to put on the blank expression she mastered when she first became a bodyguard and had to deal with this kind of shit.

Adora picks up on her discomfort and Catra picks up on _hers_ when it pops up. Adora is usually flippant about spending her money now – _having it_ will do that to you – but she still rarely buys things for herself, and certainly not designer things like this, at least outside of formal wear. Catra does not understand the point of a handbag _anyway_ , much less a two thousand dollar one. By the time they reach the Versace store, she is _tired_. She blames that on why she opens her mouth when Glimmer raises a black sports bra with a rainbow band in Adora's direction.

“No. I can’t rip that off her,” Catra says, flatly, crossing her arms to stare Glimmer down. The nearby sales associate gives a small but violent twitch in her effort to not react. Glimmer bursts out laughing, either at Catra’s words or Adora's immediate and _dark_ flush, even her ears changing colour. Bow suddenly becomes fascinated with the ceiling, despite how he can’t do his job while staring at it. Glimmer, when she recovers, raises an eyebrow at Catra and brandishes it in her direction.

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle the image?” she asks, tone teasing. Catra narrows her eyes at her. She would prefer Adora naked, actually, but the mental image is not _bad_. It has nothing to do with that.

“It costs more than Shadow spent on one of us in a _month_ ,” she points out. Glimmer pauses, blinking at her in surprise. Catra knows that must be shocking to her - Glimmer has eaten single meals that cost more than this bra, much less a _month_ worth of them. Beside her, Adora sighs and takes the bra from her, putting it back up on the rack.

“She is probably right. Just because I _can_ waste money now does not mean I should. No one would see it but Catra, and she is just as likely to shred it,” Adora tells her, shrugging and smiling apologetically at the sales assistant. The woman does her best to look stoic in the face of Adora's words, but Catra suspects it has more to do with the _shredding_ than Adora putting the bra back. Glimmer looks to Catra with wide eyes, causing her to flush and look away even as her tail lashes.

“I don’t do that _often_ ,” Catra mutters, because she _doesn’t_. They can afford to replace things, Catra is not _worried_ about that, but it still would feel wasteful if she indulged in it too frequently. Sometimes, however, she just needs access to Adora’s skin and her clothes are _in the way_. Glimmer is still staring at Catra, blushing now as her eyes seem to be fixed on her claws now she has this knowledge. Catra feels her claws flex unconsciously and coughs, turning away.

“Can we just go now? Bow is running out of arm space for your shopping bags, anyway,” Catra points out. Glimmer just nods mutely, clearly still flustered, as she heads to the counter to pay for the things she has pulled so far. Adora, the asshole, sidles up beside Catra with a smirk as Bow follows after his charge and leaves them – relatively – alone in the middle of the store.

“You’re on my shit list,” Catra warns her even as she lets Adora wrap an arm around her waist. She drops her arms from where they are crossed over her chest, letting herself lean in _a little_ with the motion to enjoy Adora against her side. Adora hums, unbothered as she leans to press a kiss to Catra’s ear. Adora is too familiar with Catra's _real_ warnings to buy this one.

“You started it,” she points out, still clearly smug despite how Catra is _not_ looking at her. She is right, Catra opened her useless mouth first, but she still is not _giving_ it to her. Adora’s arm flexes around her waist, pulling her a little closer and urging her to turn her attention back to her, but Catra steadfastly refuses, choosing to sweep her gaze out the store windows instead. She has to stay alert, even with Adora wrapped around her.

“Hey,” Adora prompts softly, voice suddenly serious. Catra sighs, her ears falling as she braces herself and looks up to Adora. She does not want her to actually think she is _upset_ with her, today has just been a lot. “Do you want to go to Jersey next weekend? Tomorrow is a little short notice, but if we do it next week we can arrange to meet up with Lonnie and Rogelio. We could visit the place we built to replace Shadow’s,” Adora offers, watching her carefully.

Catra sucks in a breath, ears pinning back now as she looks down, thinking it over. When Lonnie and Rogelio first moved to the apartment in Jersey Adora had gotten them, they spoke with Lonnie on the phone regularly. Lonnie struggled to adjust and find a new purpose. Catra was not much help, unfortunately. She is still adjusting in some ways herself, but her purpose was immediate and obvious: stay alive, and stay away from Adora. She hasn’t seen them in person since the week after they broke in.

“I thought it was a public park now,” Catra points out, a deflection, because any conversation with Lonnie and Rogelio probably should not be taking place in public. At least Adora is not suggesting _this_ weekend. It would kind of ruin Catra's plans. This gives her time to prepare herself, too. To her surprise, when she looks up to Adora, Adora smiles and shakes her head.

“That is what we did with the lot, since it was too small, but Angella donated to put up a new home out in the suburbs. I haven’t been since it was first built. It gave me flashbacks then, but I don’t think it would now, and I thought – I don’t know, I needed to see it and know the kids had that alternative. Maybe it would help you too,” Adora offers, shrugging and peering down at her.

Catra bites at her lip, thinking it over. The last thing she ever wants to do is set foot in a place like Shadow’s again, but she trusts Adora that it _won’t_ be like that. She might be right. Catra is carrying around a lot of baggage, a fucking cargo hold's worth of it actually, but some of the most pervasive traumas are from growing up at Shadow’s. By the time she reached the Horde, she was almost numbed to it.

Catra looks up to Adora and nods. “It might help me accept it,” Catra agrees, shrugging. Adora smiles, clearly relieved her suggestion has gone over well.

“I’ll text Rogelio and see when he is off work next weekend. I don’t know if they will want to see it too, but if not we _can_ meet them at the park and keep the conversation light. I think light conversation is all there can be in the same day as visiting the home,” Adora tells her. Catra nods in agreement, casting her gaze around once to find Glimmer and Bow almost done at the counter but no threats in sight. She turns, leaning in to properly tuck herself against Adora’s chest, letting her warm presence soothe her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angella, as in all my modern fics, is the same race(?) as in the show and thus immortal. Glimmer is a demi-mortal. I made Hope an immortal as well because it is the close enough to “1000-year-old hologram.” Immortals have abnormal skintones and physical characteristics. They are tall compared to average humans, have a slightly extended lifespan, and improved constitution and strength. Demi-mortals get improved health and some odd physical characteristics, but they have a pretty average lifespan.  
> BTW, if you do like that Versace bra, Catra has a fucking point and you can get [the same thing for way cheaper](https://tomboyx.com/products/essentials-soft-bra-next-gen-black-rainbow-1). Thought I would link it in case someone was lusting after it.


	17. ACT II: Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two reference images for this chapter, but the first is a massive spoiler, so it is linked in the end note. The second: (NSFW LINK – Etsy listing) [Catra’s lingerie.](https://www.etsy.com/listing/798306474/lucexy-mesh-sheer-lingerie-set) **EDIT:** the lingerie has since sold out and is no longer available for reference, so please checkout [this fanart a friend did](https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/641874360734547968/slas-catras-lingerie-ref-1-in-chapter-17) of Catra in the set instead!  
> Their safewords haven’t been brought up yet, but they were established in the gap between Act I & Act II. They both use the same set, Red for Stop, Pink for Slow, and Blue for Go.

Catra should not be nervous. It is stupid as hell to be nervous right now.

She is still nervous. It does not matter if she thinks she knows the answer, this still feels like the biggest risk of her life. There are just too many factors. It does not rain Sunday, a beautiful day with summer warmth starting to creep into the air. Fine, that is _one_ concern done, but she has a half dozen others.

They sleep in late, and then Adora slips into the shower with her and they are even _later_. Not that Catra regrets a second of her moans echoing off the walls as Adora held her up against the tiles, but it pushes their defence lesson back. Adora is making great progress in the training Catra has been giving her – she is pretty sure Adora could hold her own in a real fight now, at least until Catra could step in – but that also means their lesson stretches longer than it used to.

It is well into the afternoon when they get home, and despite visiting every weekend now – at least that Adora was not on lockdown – Catra is worried Adora will call it a day and decide to stay home until dinner. The average person would be exhausted after a workout like that, but then again, apparently Adora has been a demi-mortal this whole time, so she really should not have underestimated her.

“It’s a bit late, but you want to go out to the Blues? I kind of need some calm after the drama of the week,” Adora asks her when they have only been home for twenty minutes, flopped on the couch and rehydrating as they recover. Catra just has to hope she does not light up too obviously as she nods.

“Let me change into shorts, first. It’s a little warm for me,” she tells Adora, rising from the couch. Adora is an idiot, luckily, so she doesn’t pick up on anything and just beams at her. There is another concern gone: that Adora would try to follow her upstairs. Catra tries to be as quick as she can, but she gets delayed trying to find something she can change into with appropriate pockets.

Adora doesn’t come to check on her as she fidgets with the ropes she has hidden in the guest room and then decides to leave them. If she moves them to the bedroom now and this breaks bad, she doesn’t want to have to hide them again when they get home. Catra is nervous enough now that she worries it is starting to _show_ as she hurries back downstairs. No one knows her like Adora.

She fights the urge to fidget for the entire car ride to the mountains. She knows a lot about mastering her fears, about shoving things down and hiding them, but this is not fear, it is _hope_ , and it is harder to kill. Catra feels like she is twitching and obvious the whole way up the trail to the mountain. Probably because she _is_.

“Do you want to turn back?” Adora asks, clearly trying to be casual. They haven’t even reached the first lookout point. Catra shakes her head and keeps walking. Adora sighs, reaching out for her hand. She pulls them to a halt, but Catra does not dare look back at Adora, afraid her face will give her away. Both her ears are swiveled back to listen for Adora, her tail twitching from her own anxiety.

“Catra, I know I said I needed this, but if you’re not comfortable being in the open today-“ Adora starts. Catra lets out a breath of relief. It is true she gets days where her paranoia is too high to be in wide open spaces, but this is not one of those times. She tugs on Adora’s hand, pulling her forward. Adora takes the hint, stepping up behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist, providing her a solid presence to lean back into. Another worry of Catra’s had been _witnesses_ , but so far they have been alone on the trail today.

“I need this too. I want to get to the second lookout point. I promise I will tell you if I need to go back,” Catra assures. She can’t tell her the _truth_ , not for another few miles, but hopefully it is enough to assure her. It seems to work. Adora squeezes her tighter, pressing a kiss to each of her ears and then to the top of her head – probably just to rub in how much taller she is, especially in her hiking boots. Being a shit is a good way to relax them both.

“Okay. We’ll go to the second lookout. We should have enough daylight for that,” Adora agrees. There is another concern that Catra had not been considering: running out of time, especially if she freezes up once they get there. She sets forward again, determined that they make good time so this whole thing does not fall apart. She always has next week if it does, but she can’t go through all this again in a week. She risks Adora finding out the longer she takes, anyway.

They reach the first lookout quickly. Catra almost considers abandoning her plan and going for it there, but she wants the better view, and it is all-too easy to shove it off for later with that justification. She might be worried about reaching the lookout, but she is also worried about doing this at all.

The second lookout point is gorgeous, when they reach it. From here, they can see the falls still hidden by the side of the mountain at the first point. They have a completely clear view of the sky and can look out over the whole park. Catra feels herself breathing a sigh of relief that they made it as she leans against the rail. Part of it is just the calm of being so high up, able to see so much. Peaceful nature stretches out below and around them.

Adora takes a deep breath, drawing in the mountain air and sinking onto the nearby bench. She smiles up at Catra with a hopeful look. Catra rolls her eyes, but she moves to sit beside Adora. Adora instantly takes her hand, raising it to her lips to kiss her knuckles briefly, smiling happily as she drops their joined hands down to her lap. The gesture is enough to make Catra blush, but especially the casual _familiarity_ of it makes her flustered. Adora did not even think about it as she did it, Catra is sure.

Catra clears her throat and realizes she has nothing to _say_. She chose her words, but they are sitting back inside the guest room in case the trip out didn’t go how she planned. She loves Adora, but she doesn’t know how to verbalize it. Adora is watching her now though, expectant and waiting, concern slowly creeping in as Catra stays silent, her ears pinning back.

Catra had a vision of how to do this in her head, and it was stupid, she is now realizing. This kind of thing is all Adora – both in culture, and in personality. She knows the way humans do this, she _tried_ to do it too. She took them somewhere beautiful and private, with meaning to them, but the way Adora would do this is not the way she would do it. It is not the way she is _going_ to do it.

Catra swallows, reaching down into her pocket and pulling out the satin bag she hid there before they left. It is small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Adora blinks down at her hand in surprise and then looks up at her with obvious confusion, but she does not say anything, clearly sensing Catra needs to gather her courage. Catra drops her hand from Adora’s to undo the knot, trembling slightly as she does so.

“When I went out last weekend, I bought you this. There are words that are supposed to go with it, but- well, you _know_ the way hybrids do this is different. I wanted us to make something together, I picked out all the meanings carefully, but I wanted you to have the traditional human thing too. So, if you’re okay with waiting for the _words_ until we get home and I can show you the ropes I got, I wanted to give this to you here,” Catra explains.

Her voice is a little breathless, fear or anticipation, who knows, but she does not dare look up as she pulls the ring out. Her ears twitch as Adora gives a sharp gasp, apparently all of it _clicking_ for her. The ring is simple, a smooth golden band with a single square diamond set into it, flush with the surface. The ring of someone who does not want something that could catch or be obtrusive. Adora has always been practical about her clothes.

“This is the ring I always imagined getting you. I know we could both afford something _fancier_ now, but I wanted it to fit you, and some flashy engagement ring didn’t feel right. I- fuck, Adora, you deserve some big declaration, but I don’t know how to _do_ that. I just love you. I want to be yours and for you to be mine. So… will you marry me?” she asks, finally forcing herself to look up.

Adora is crying, which is _probably_ good. Regardless of what she said that first weekend they got together, there was a lot of _excitement_ going on that she could have gotten caught up in. She _said_ she would marry Catra tomorrow – but it has been three months since then. She does not think Adora would be crying if she was going to shoot her down, though. Her tears are silent, spilling down her cheeks as she looks not at the ring, but straight at Catra, her expression frozen in something approaching awe.

It is that shining expression, but _literally_ shining from the wetness of tears. Catra is holding her breath, her fur standing on end, caught in between _hope_ and _anxiety_ and _love_ as Adora reaches towards her, hands shaking. She opens her mouth but doesn’t say anything, drawing in a gasping breath. Catra takes her hand – her _left_ hand – as she reaches it out to her, unable to stop the hopeful expression on her face. Adora nods, eager and crying and _smiling_ now, and Catra finally lets out her held breath, slipping the ring on Adora’s finger with her own shaking hands.

\--

Technically, they have two weeks to go on their engagement ban. But _technically_ , Angella only banned _Adora_ from proposing before the end of the quarter. She never said anything about Catra – probably because not even Adora would have anticipated Catra taking this step. Adora’s hand shakes every time she raises it to look down at her hand. She cries an _embarrassing_ amount on the mountain, but once Catra realizes it is _good_ she holds her and murmurs assurances to her. She tells her she loves her. With a grin, she tells her she _has_ her now.

“You always had me,” Adora manages through her tears. Catra sucks in a breath, looks near tears herself at that, but she keeps stroking Adora’s hair and kissing the side of her face. Despite saying she _doesn’t know how to do this_ , Catra does a pretty damn good job at making Adora a wreck. They eventually have to move just because sunset is coming, but they are both still emotional as they make their way down the trail, hand-in-hand when they can be.

“You got us the ropes?” Adora asks, a bit breathlessly, as they make their descent. Catra flushes and nods.

“We’ll have to go out so you can pick yours, and I don’t know if you know all the meanings and stuff – I mean, even I had to learn, since Shadow never wanted to teach us this, but-“ Catra starts, her ears twitching as she rambles a bit, gesturing with her free hand.

“Catra, I want to pick ropes, too. Unless you already picked all the ones I would have. I know some meanings. I’ll have to research more, but I want to make a design with you,” Adora cuts in, gently, looking down at Catra.

Even with the way Shadow raised them, it would be hard to avoid knowledge about the knotwork pieces hybrids make to declare their marriages. Adora does not know much about what different colours and knots mean, but she will _learn_. It was too painful to think about after she lost Catra, all-too aware how she would latch onto certain designs and rope types because of what they might have meant for them.

She had not thought about proposing to Catra that way. She should have – Catra would not have worn a ring even if she would have accepted it – but Catra had never mentioned it and Adora was not going to bring it up, now when it was not her tradition. _Catra_ had considered both ways, though, and gotten Adora the ring she and her family would be expecting, with all of the ropes and their meanings sitting back at home.

Catra tucks into her side when they reach a fairly flat patch on the trail. “I’ve been thinking about what our design would be for years. I only started trying to put together a cohesive piece after we got together, but we have time to work on it and make something together,” Catra tells her. Adora can’t help but grin to herself. _Crafts_ might not be their thing, but she loves the idea of making a design with knots and connections that represent them and their relationship, hanging it in the center of their house with all the pride of wedding photos. It is about making something together to represent their relationship and their pasts. It is about intertwining their lives going forward. It is about being damn sappy for each other.

“I never knew if it was something you would want. Our school wasn’t any more culturally accepting than Shadow. I didn’t know if you had just… accepted rings, I guess,” Adora tells her. Catra nods, parting from her side so they can climb down a steep part of the trail before they come back together like magnets. Catra is to her left, _holding_ her left hand, and Adora grins to herself when she feels Catra’s fingers tracing the ring.

“You know how I feel about jewelry. Pinches my fur. I would have been fine with either, but- I didn’t know how to say the things I feel. The ropes can do it for me, you know? What we make together,” Catra tells her, shrugging and blushing a little. Adora can’t help but beam at her.

“You did great. I mean, obviously, I cried a _lot_ ,” Adora tells her. Catra snorts, throwing her a smirk, like Adora knew she would, but Adora is still emotional so she can have it. Adora feels herself fidgeting with Catra’s hand a bit where she holds it. “I- was going to buy you a ring. Angella asked me to wait until the end of the quarter, but I was going to start looking the next day. Thinking about it now, I think I would have gotten maybe an hour in before realizing that wasn’t right for you,” Adora admits, flushing a little.

Catra had been far more considerate than she had, but Adora is certain it is true. She can’t help but think back to Catra’s words about _fancier_ rings. Catra wouldn’t have wanted that and neither did Adora. She loves the ring Catra chose, the simplicity and low profile of it, but she knows most engagement rings don’t look like this. She does not think she would have looked at many before giving up and deciding to propose on her own and then asking Catra what _she_ wanted once she agreed.

Catra looks up at her, surprised amusement on her face, but Adora can see an edge of worry there. “Angella asked you to wait?” she asks, and Adora understands her nerves. She smiles, shaking her head and tugging Catra closer by their joined hands.

“It wasn’t an _order_. I asked her for permission to marry you weeks ago, and she told me to wait until the end of the quarter and then to buy you any ring. She knew I was not going to change my mind, but I think she just wanted us to date a bit first. We have now,” Adora explains, looking down at the ring and grinning again. “I’m not taking this off,” she adds, to put to rest any worries Catra might have about _hiding_ this until the two weeks are up.

Catra relaxes by her side, nodding and looking down as she flushes. “I- was worried you weren’t ready yet, since you were the one who brought it up before but you hadn’t said anything since,” she admits, quietly, obviously embarrassed. Adora does not know _why_ she is embarrassed. Catra has a tendency to go worst-case scenario, and Adora’s sudden silence on the topic makes sense as a trigger for that habit.

“I didn’t want it to just seem _inevitable_ when I did it. I wanted it to still be exciting. I- remember when we were in Angella’s office while she was approving decorations for the summer gala? I almost asked you if you would like something like those drapes at our wedding, but then I remembered I should wait until we’re at least _engaged_ first,” Adora explains to her. Catra looks a bit _stunned_ at that revelation, flushing and looking down as she processes. Adora can’t help but grin, nudging her with her elbow. “So?” she prompts.

Catra looks up and blinks at her, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, but she is still flushed. “So what?” she asks. Adora rolls her eyes.

“So do you want something like that for our wedding? You- want a wedding right? I mean if you don’t, we don’t have to, you just mentioned _vows_ before so I thought-“ Adora shuts up when Catra fixes her with a look.

“Yes, I want a wedding, but I don’t want drapes like that. I thought we could do it on the estate grounds somewhere. Maybe in one of the gardens,” Catra tells her. Adora feels herself draw a breath, actually _picturing_ it now Catra has given it a form. She is a bit surprised by the shape Catra has chosen, though. The estate makes sense as a location; sentimental, safe, beautiful in its own right, with plenty of room to host a wedding. It is the _garden_ bit that is surprising to her.

“That sounds beautiful. But why outside? I would think the open space would bother you,” Adora asks. Catra flushes, looking determinedly ahead as she answers.

“When we were in high school, I never imagined us having the money for a wedding venue. I thought a wedding at a public park would probably be the best thing we could afford to do. Better than whatever shitty venue we could get for the money, anyway. I like the idea of taking what I pictured then and turning it into something beautiful now we can,” Catra tells her, cheeks blazing and tail whipping slow but _hard_ as she looks anywhere but at Adora.

Adora is at risk of crying again at that admission, so she just swallows and nods. Catra relaxes a little at least when she doesn’t say anything about it. It was a vulnerable admission, and Adora is more than happy to let it sit and be thankful Catra shared it. Adora has never really thought about their wedding before the last few weeks. She was far too busy trying to bury her feelings for fear of scaring Catra off again. Even when she has thought about it recently, it was usually an ephemeral idea.

“I want a wedding, and your family would probably kill us if we didn’t have one anyway, but- I was thinking we could follow the knotwork tradition? Where we get the official license when we finish making our piece together? If your family can be okay with that,” Catra asks, still fidgeting with the ring on Adora’s finger. She is watching the trail, which is wholly unnecessary considering they are almost to the car park and the trail is flat and well-maintained here. Adora tugs gently on their hands and Catra takes a breath to brace herself but looks up to her.

“Catra, my family is important to me, but so are _you_. I don’t give a fuck what they want out of our relationship, it is _ours_. Hell, my moms would probably be pissed if we let them pressure us into something we don’t want. I would be _happy_ to do it that way. Making the piece usually takes a year anyway, right? It takes a bit longer than that to plan a wedding. The official license will probably end up falling around the same time anyway,” Adora assures her.

She knows she is being _intense_ about this, and that Catra might need softer reassurance, but Adora does not know how to be any less devoted about this – about _Catra_. Catra stares up at her with an expression tinged with _awe_ before she seems to remember herself and turns away with a cough, her face flushed.

“I was giving you an out, idiot. You could have just said your family wouldn’t approve if you didn’t want to,” Catra deflects. Adora raises a brow at her. That may be true, but it isn’t the _whole_ truth. Catra has mentioned how she _always imagined_ this a few times now. There is no way either of them having a family ever factored into those visions, and she suspects it is stressing her now.

“We’ll have the traditions _we_ want, Catra. Both of us,” Adora promises her. Catra flushes, but she nods, looking up to make eye contact with her and then darting her gaze away.

“Come on. We need to get back before the sun sets. And figure out how we’re going to break the news to Angella that we disobeyed her,” Catra says, turning back to face down the trail. Adora does not push it. She knows the assurance landed just from Catra’s reaction, anyway.

“Loudly and with gusto,” Adora suggests. Catra laughs, and they start back down the trail together. Family dinner is going to be interesting.

\--

Family dinner _was_ interesting when they showed up ten minutes late, hand-in-hand, the ring still on Adora’s finger. It had taken all of twenty seconds for Juliet to notice, her sudden coughing fit kicking off a chain reaction as everyone slowly keyed in to the source. Luckily, Adora had been right – Angella seemed amused more than anything. Glimmer gaped a _lot_ , and everyone was surprised _Catra_ was the one to propose, but apparently she only beat Adora to it by two weeks anyway.

Normally, family dinner exhausts her. They often fall into bed early afterwards. Today, they had to go to it straight from Catra showing Adora her selection of ropes. They got caught up, emotional and _maybe_ making out, and then realized they were late for dinner.

They have not gotten to _celebrate_ , really, and Catra can tell Adora is having the same thoughts as they head back home afterwards. Adora’s energy, her _desire_ , is building as they make their way back inside the house. Her hand had been on Catra’s leg for most of the dinner, fingers starting to trace the stripes on her thigh by the time it drew to a close.

Now, Adora’s fingers twitch a little as she puts away her keys and Catra can’t help but smirk to herself. She doesn’t wait for Adora to finish taking off her shoes, heading straight up the stairs. Adora knocks her keys off the console table in her eagerness to follow and curses. Catra– alright, she _giggles_ , but sue her, her _fiancé_ is overeager and _cute_.

Catra lets herself have her rolling purr of amusement as she makes her way to the bedroom, Adora hurrying up behind her. By the time Catra is pushing open the bedroom door, Adora is at her back, close enough for Catra to feel her heat as she stretches her arm over Catra’s shoulder and pushes the door open the rest of the way for her. Once inside, Adora kicks the door shut behind them, her arms coming up to wrap around Catra’s waist so she can press flush against her back.

Catra’s purr rumbles loud in the room as she lets herself have the moment, draping herself back against Adora and trusting she will keep her upright. She does, of course, shifting and tightening her grip around her waist as she bends to press kisses to the side of Catra’s jaw. Catra lolls her head back onto her shoulder, purring from happiness as her fiancé presses soft kisses against her.

Fiancé. The word strikes a chord in her. She is enjoying lounging back into Adora’s arms, feeling her hold her, but what she really wants right now is to satisfy the fire Adora was stoking in her as she stroked her thigh all evening. She wants to have Adora fall apart for her, to ease Adora over the edge with all the care her wife should be treated with. 

“Are you feeling down to sub tonight? You’ll get your turn, I just really want to have you right now,” Catra says, turning her head a little to nuzzle into Adora’s neck. She wants to take care of Adora, and she wants to do it right. Normally Adora tops - at least _first,_ anyway. It is her preference, and Catra is more varied in her desires, so she is usually happy to let her. There is another reason Adora tops, though. 

Adora _really_ likes taking care of Catra. Catra gets it, she gets pleasure from making Adora feel good too, but it means that if she gets Catra off first, she is often close to the edge already when Catra gets her hands on her. Catra is usually more than content with bringing her to her second, and third, and even _fourth_ peak, but tonight she wants to draw it out. Tonight she wants her fiancé shuddering beneath her, riding the edge as Catra gives her everything that she wants.

Adora presses a kiss into her hair. “You’re not going to be too tired afterwards?” she asks, tone teasing. Catra cranes her head back so she can narrow her eyes at Adora.

“I want you to let go and just let me take care of you. Afterwards, you can have your way with me,” Catra tells her, a promise with a wink on the end. Adora flushes, but she nods, leaning in to kiss along the sides of Catra’s face again. She does that a lot. Catra loves it, loves the casual intimacy of the touch, but she suspects Adora does it mostly to nuzzle into the soft tufts of fur at the edges of her jaw. Catra luxuriates in the loving touches for a few moments, sighing in contentment, before she remembers there are _other_ things they could be doing.

Catra straightens out of Adora’s arms. Adora’s arms instantly go from holding her up to falling away from her waist as soon as she starts to lean away. She turns to face Adora, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and smiling up at the mix of soft affection and excited desire on Adora’s face. Catra tilts her head up, request blatant, and Adora smiles happily as she leans in to indulge her, kissing her long and slow as her arms come up to wrap around Catra’s waist again.

She was supposed to be moving things further along, but then she remembered they had not kissed yet, and here she is in Adora’s arms again, her tail waving happily as she leans up into the press of Adora’s lips. Adora explores her mouth, thorough and possessive, making Catra shudder beneath her.

She loves kissing Adora – might be in her top three favourite activities, actually – but she can feel the heat building in her now Adora has agreed and she just has to _take_ it. When they next part of breath, Catra lowers from where she had risen on her toes to meet Adora, licking her lips absently. Adora watches the movement with a gaze darkened by desire.

“I’m going to go to the closet, and when I come back, I want you on the bed and wearing nothing but that ring. Can you do that for me, princess?” Catra asks, watching Adora’s blush blossom and spill down her neck immediately as her eyes glaze over. Adora nods, a smile breaking out across her face as she leans down and kisses Catra again, her excitement _obvious_ in the way she runs her tongue along her fangs. Even after three months, Catra’s breath still hitches when she does that, when Adora takes pleasure in all her sharp edges that should be unlovable.

Catra shudders beneath Adora’s touch, realizing Adora is wrapping her up in her arms again, bending down to kiss her as she moves closer in, surrounding her. Catra does not feel caged, not when it is Adora and being surrounded by her is to be surrounded by love and safety, but she did _tell_ Adora she wanted to be in charge. Catra pulls back when they part for air, throwing a satisfied smirk in Adora’s direction at her expression of obvious _loss_ despite Catra having just told her she was going to leave.

“Undress, princess. I gave you an order,” Catra tells her, smug as she turns away and makes her way to the closet. She hears Adora eagerly following directions before the door is even closed. Catra can’t help but smile to herself as she undresses herself – and then _redresses_ , pulling out the lingerie set she had bought a few weeks back.

Lingerie is not usually Catra’s thing. She understands the appeal, but she would rather just have sex than put up extra barriers. She suspects Adora is going to be _handsy_ tonight, though, so an extra barrier might be just what they need if Adora is going to relax and let Catra take care of her. She does like the drama of it, anyway.

The set is simple, a sheer bralette and sheer high-waisted underwear to match, thin garters attached. Despite the simplicity and comfort of it, the effect it had on Adora had been sudden and instant. Adora had been utterly speechless, going submissive and wide-eyed in moments. Catra still has only worn it once, but tonight it feels right.

Catra pauses at the closet door, checking that the sounds of Adora undressing have stopped, her heartbeat and scent echoing from the area of their bed. Satisfied she won’t distract Adora mid-undressing and cause her to trip on her own feet or something, Catra pushes open the closet door. Adora looks up immediately, going slack-jawed as she takes Catra in from her perch at the edge of the bed. Her legs are thrown over the side, and they were already closed, but now they _clench_.

Adora licks her lips as Catra approaches, smirking at Adora just wide enough to flash her fangs. Adora seems incapable of speech again, her eyes never leaving Catra but still hardly staying _still_ as they sweep up and down her body. Her hands fist in the comforter, arm muscles standing taut from the effort it takes to not reach out despite Catra not being within arms’ reach yet.

Catra draws to a halt before Adora, still smirking as she curls her tail forward to push Adora’s chin up, closing her mouth for her. It does nothing to bring her back from the brink of her lust haze, but it does spur her to move. Adora’s control snaps once Catra touches her. She lets out a soft, desperate sound and reaches for her, gripping her hips and spreading her own legs to pull Catra between them so she can kiss her, harsh and _hungry_.

Catra shudders beneath the intensity, letting Adora have her way for a long moment because _damn_ does it feel good. Once Catra is totally breathless, she pulls back from the kiss, although she stays between Adora’s legs. She sweeps her tail from side-to-side, swatting Adora’s hands away from her waist. Adora’s eyes widen a little, but she lets her hand fall and clutch the comforter again, looking up at Catra with an expression bordering on pleading.

“I didn’t say you could touch, princess,” Catra tells her, smug and amused. Adora’s eyes flash, the muscles in her arms flexing again as her breathing goes a little ragged. The look on her face makes it clear she wants to challenge that, but she licks her lips and nods, being still for her. Catra purrs to herself, leaning forward to drag her cheek along Adora’s neck. “Good girl. So obedient for me,” she praises. Adora whines softly, her arms shaking a little, but stays dutifully still.

She loves Adora when she gets like this. When she lets Catra guide her, when she trusts her to take care of her and make her feel good. Catra shudders a little at the thought, nuzzling further down Adora’s neck to mark along her collarbones now. Adora arches her back up, pressing up into the touch, _eager_ for Catra to mark her. Catra can certainly indulge, nudging back up to her neck and biting at the side, not too harsh, but enough to make Adora gasp as she sets to sucking a dark mark.

They have work tomorrow, but even with the concealer over it she knows Adora will occasionally thumb the mark just to feel it and smile to herself. Catra pulls back and purrs to herself at the sight of Adora fisting the comforter in her hands, muscles flexed, breath ragged, her tits _bouncing_ with every unsteady breath, a bruise blossoming on the side of her neck as she looks up to Catra with blatant desire, her lips parted with those straining breaths. _Straining_ is a good word for her entire demeanor as Adora is held back by Catra’s words alone.

She is beautiful, nothing on her but the golden glint on her finger, waiting for Catra to make the next move. Catra reaches for her left hand. Adora immediately disentangles it from the comforter, watching with eager eyes as Catra brings her hand to her lips, briefly kissing Adora’s knuckles like she had done for Catra earlier, on the mountain. Catra looks up, making heated eye contact before she kisses down to Adora’s fingertips and the sucks her first two fingers into her mouth.

Adora whines, her desire spiking as Catra takes her fingers past the knuckle, all the way to the base so the cool metal on her ring finger is forced to press against her cheek. Adora likes it when she gets like this, and even without Adora’s quiet keening sounds she is certain the sight with the _ring_ added in must do things to her. Catra purrs in satisfaction as Adora seems to realize she is allowed to move, pulling her fingers back. Catra briefly mourns the loss of the cool metal on her cheek before Adora is pressing back in, curling her fingers to stroke along her fangs as she slowly, steadily, pumps her fingers in and out of Catra’s mouth.

Catra is all-too happy to suck and lick along Adora’s fingers, leaning into the cold shock of the metal pressing against her cheek every time Adora pushes all the way in. Catra wants to be in charge, true, but the point of being in charge is so she can make Adora feel good, and right now her lover’s eyes are darkened with lust, her expression a bit slack as she watches. The scent of Adora’s arousal is getting almost overwhelming now as she steadily - almost _lovingly,_ with the caresses to Catra’s fangs - fucks her mouth.

The next time Adora pulls her fingers back, Catra releases them. It takes Adora a half second of blinking at her to really _process,_ but then she swallows thickly and drops her hand to fist in the comforter again. Catra is certain that if Adora had her claws she would rip it. She might do it with just the tearing of her fingers anyway. Adora’s entire body is taut with the effort of holding back. It makes Catra frown a little. As much as she loves watching Adora’s muscles flex and strain for her, she does not want her to get tense from this. Luckily, there are options other than _willpower_ to hold Adora back.

“Lay back on the bed for me, princess. It’s time I started taking care of you,” Catra promises her, leaning up to kiss the corner of her jaw, teeth ghosting over the spot for a moment, causing Adora to gasp. She is particularly weak for attention to that spot, but after a moment she gathers herself enough to start pulling back towards the center of the bed. Adora crawls to the center of the bed, starting to lay out and then blatantly staring when she turns to see Catra climbing up after her.

Her eyes glaze over, gaze drifting over Catra’s body in the lingerie again. Unconsciously, she reaches out for Catra as she approaches before she seems to remember she has not been given permission to touch. Adora’s hands flex uselessly in the air for a moment before Catra catches them in her own, moving to straddle Adora’s hips.

“I know you want to touch. How about I tie your wrists so you don’t have to hold back and can just focus on what I’m doing for you?” Catra asks, pressing a kiss to Adora’s inner wrist and watching her reaction. _Her reaction_ is drawing in a sharp breath as her spilling blush darkens, her eyes fluttering just a little as she nods. Catra grins to herself, raising Adora’s hands above her head and reaching between the mattress and the wall to find the padded restraints attached to the crossbar of the bedframe, tucked out of sight.

Adora lets out a soft sigh of contentment as the cuff is fastened around her wrist. The tie system is all for Adora. It had not taken Catra long to realize she loves being restrained, either by command or by physical touch. Catra could never get off on being tied like this, but the fact that Adora trusts her enough to do it with her makes her fur feel hot every time she thinks about it. She binds Adora’s other wrist, rearranging her arms so they can be a bit more comfortable where they are stretched out about her head.

Catra slides back down Adora’s body, settling over her hips again and unable to hold back her smile at the relaxation on Adora’s face now, despite the blatant need and desire still there. “You’re doing so well for me, princess,” Catra praises, reaching down to stroke Adora’s cheek. Adora’s eyes flutter, her head turning to nuzzle into Catra’s hand. Catra is all too happy to keep up the gentle affection, her gaze sweeping over Adora’s body as she does so.

She has plenty to look at, from the ring on Adora’s finger, to her bound wrists, to the soft trust on her face, to the beautiful expanse of skin stretching out beneath her. Adora seems content with the touch to her face, but Catra has yet to actually _touch_ her, and it is driving her a bit crazy with how strong the scent of Adora’s desire is now. She does not remove the hand on Adora’s face, but she slides the other up to feel along her body.

Adora’s eyes fly open as Catra’s hand trails over her chest, pausing to pinch lightly at her nipple and earning a soft gasp. Adora’s gaze is locked on her face, Catra knows, but she does not look back, smirking to herself as she finally slides the other hand down to her shoulder. Catra massages at the muscles there at the same time as she kneads at Adora’s chest and pinches her nipple, earning a whine and shudder.

Catra wants _more_. She wants Adora on the edge and riding it, riding _her_ until she can’t hold herself back any longer. Catra drops her mouth to Adora’s chest, laving at her nipple as she continues to work the other breast with her left hand and feel the taut muscles in Adora’s shoulders with her right. Adora’s legs twitch beneath her, causing Catra to look up and make heated eye contact with her as she sucks on her nipple. Adora openly moans at the sight, her eyes locked on Catra’s.

Catra releases her with a wet pop that has Adora letting out another quiet moan. She slides her left hand up to join her right, massaging at both sides of Adora’s neck now as she nuzzles her way along Adora’s chest, interspersing kisses and long licks as she goes that have Adora shuddering, making soft noises beneath her as she arches up into the touch. Satisfied, finally, with the attention she has paid to Adora’s shoulders, she slides her hands down to feel along her sides now as her kisses make their way down to Adora’s abs.

Adora has _definitely_ gotten more cut in the last four months. Catra laves her tongue along the lines of her abdominal muscles, enjoying the way they tense and flex beneath her as Adora lets out soft moans and whines. Catra’s ears twitch at the sound of the metal fastener of the cuffs clinking against the bedframe, Adora _straining_ against the restraints now.

“Catra,” Adora breathes, no actual question or demand contained within, just desperate and worked up, seeking any form of relief. Catra answers by pressing a soft and chaste kiss just below Adora’s navel that has her whining in frustration.

“Sorry, princess, did I forget to mention I’m drawing this out?” Catra asks, looking up to throw Adora a satisfied smirk. Adora whines, her legs shifting as she pulls at the restraints again. It might just be the hottest thing Catra has ever seen, Adora so desperate for her but making no requests to be untied even as she _fights_ the cuffs. Catra decides to take pity on her and slides down to rest between her legs. Adora makes a soft, grateful sound, watching her with hungry eyes, apparently having already forgotten what Catra _just_ told her.

Catra’s hands sweep down and she sets to massaging along Adora’s thighs. Adora groans when she realizes Catra is not actually going to touch her, throwing her head back and tugging on the restraints again. Her breathing, already fast, turns absolutely ragged when the cuffs hold her in place. She _really_ likes being restrained, at Catra’s mercy. Unfortunately for her, Catra _has none_. She bends down and presses a kiss to Adora’s hip while she continues to knead her way along the lines of Adora’s muscular thighs.

“I love touching you, feeling everything that is _mine_. Let me enjoy you first,” Catra tells her, finally acknowledging the battle with the cuffs taking place at the head of the bed and drinking in the open moan the words earn, but Adora stops straining so much at least. She swallows thickly, some of the desperate tension in her body releasing, though she tugs weakly at the restraints again like she thinks they will have come undone while Catra was talking.

There is a reason Catra went for padded leather cuffs – anything less, and she is pretty sure Adora could have torn through it by now. As hot as it is to see Adora’s muscles strain as she fights the restriction, Catra has no desire to put metal cuffs on her. The leather cuffs are the middle ground between successful restraint and possible escape.

Catra returns her attention to kissing down Adora’s thighs now, avoiding the space in-between them even as Adora spreads her legs wider, letting out a hopeful noise but making no further complaints as Catra’s massaging hands work their way down to her calves. Adora is a little _too_ weak for Catra’s tongue. If it comes to play anywhere sensitive on Adora’s body, then she will be finished at this point. As much as Catra wants to draw this out, Adora can come completely untouched, and from her ragged breathing and beading sweat Catra can tell she is starting to come close just from the slow, full-body devotion and restraint.

 _Good_. Catra leans back, sliding her hands back up Adora’s body now, no longer massaging but still applying pressure as she goes. Adora shudders as Catra’s hands sweep up, resting on her hips and squeezing lightly. At some point, Adora’s eyes fell closed. Catra sweeps her tail up, brushing it along Adora’s inner thigh. That gets her attention, Adora’s eyes flying open with a gasp as she locks eyes with Catra, gaze pleading and desperate.

Catra grins at her, sweeping her tail higher, ghosting it back and forth over her clit in soft, featherlight touches. After so long without direct contact, Adora is sensitive and gasps with each fluttering touch. It is not enough to bring her there, but it does draw out the desperation. If this orgasm does not hit Adora like a truck when it arrives, then Catra has failed in her goal.

“I’m going to touch you now, but you aren’t allowed to come until I tell you to,” Catra tells her, voice soft despite the order. Adora whines _desperately_ , but the heat spike in her eyes, the fresh wave of desire, the way she is _glistening_ now, all tell Catra what she thinks of that idea. “Tell me you will follow orders, princess. Tell me your safe words,” Catra orders, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Adora’s hip again, her tail still flicking in those featherlight touches she knows would _infuriate_ herself. Adora groans, eyes screwing up, but she nods.

“I won’t come until you tell me to. Red for stop. Blue for go,” Adora tells her, voice needy. Catra shudders a little, her hands sliding down to grip Adora’s inner thighs. The last four months of training together, and two months of having sex, have given Catra a good idea of just how much Adora can take. Her legs are already spread, but Catra pushes them further apart, pushes them to the limit where she knows the stretch is just starting to burn. Adora whines beneath her, doing nothing to fight the repositioning as she _twitches_ in response.

Catra’s hands are occupied, but she pulls her tail back just a bit on the next flick, giving it force this time. It is still only a light tap against her - she does not want to _hurt_ Adora - but Adora gasps and tries to flex her hips forward. With Catra holding her legs apart, she can’t get the proper leverage to roll them forward like she clearly _wants_ , but the reaction tells her enough.

“You want that again, princess?” Catra asks. Adora releases a desperate, ragged sound, on the edge for too long to form proper words as she nods, her face screwed up from the effort of holding herself back, even with the restraints on her wrists. “The same, or harder?” Catra questions, relaxing her grip on Adora’s thighs and briefly easing the tension so they can pull in just a fraction to rest from the stretch.

“Harder,” Adora gasps, her eyes flying open to make desperate eye contact with Catra. Her eyes are watering, tears starting to prick at the corner of her eyes as Catra nods and then forces her legs apart to that tension point again. Adora gasps, and then _cries out_ when Catra brings her tail down again. They have never done this, but Adora is clearly desperate for it.

Catra intersperses the harsh taps with soft flicks, letting her thighs come closer together to relax while her tail sways against her before she pushes them further apart and resumes the taps. Adora gasps, moans, cries _out_ , her hips flexing uselessly as she strains for any kind of prolonged pressure that will push her over. Catra drinks in the growing desperation, the wetness spreading down her thighs even where Catra is holding them now, the sight of Adora utterly _falling apart_ beneath her without ever coming.

Because she doesn’t come. She holds back even as she starts panting out _please_ and _Catra_ , so close Catra worries she might not be able to hold back with every touch, but she knows that as much as Adora is begging, she has come nowhere close to the word _red_. It is a sweet agony, a building torture to be close for so long. Catra knows – her own thighs are clenched, her slick soaking into the comforter beneath her, but she can’t stop. She doesn’t want this prolonged state of feeling so turned on, so close, to end for either of them.

“Catra, _please_ , let me come,” Adora finally manages to gasp out, eyes opening from where they were screwed shut again. Catra moans herself, her own hips rutting against the mattress as she pulls her tail back, wrapping it around her own waist just from the need to _hang on_ to something. The tip is soaked from Adora’s desperation.

“You’ve been so good for me, Adora. Relax, I’ll take care of you,” Catra promises, easing her grip on Adora’s thighs all the way, slowly guiding her body to relax with her legs parted just enough so Catra can remain kneeled between them. Adora releases a noise halfway between a sob and a moan, grateful regardless of its origin, as Catra finally drops a hand to meet her, working her clit with a steady pressure that has her crying out and arching her hips. “You can come for me now, Adora,” Catra tells her, upping the intensity as soon as the words leave her mouth.

\--

After so long on the edge, it barely takes a moment of the rough attention for Adora to cry out. The heat has been nearly suffocating, her mouth dry, thighs _soaked_ , all the muscles in her body locking as the blood pounds in her ears and her vision whites out, nothing but the intense, burning pressure between her legs, heat in every inch of her skin, her body shaking. She can’t tell if it is protest or relief at finally being granted reprieve, but she knows she definitely screams, even if she hardly hears it over the blood pounding in her ears.

She feels her entire body writhing, fighting the restraints and the intensity only peaking higher as they hold her back. Her leg is held down, she thinks Catra is straddling it – Catra is definitely _moaning_ now, at least – but she can’t stop the possession overtaking her. Adora only becomes aware she arched off the bed when she feels herself fall back onto it. She is lightheaded, her panting desperate and ragged, any coherent thoughts far beyond her. All she is aware of is her physical senses, and even that is distant. She can hear Catra’s voice murmuring to her, something soft and assuring as her hands knead light and gentle at her aching thighs.

For several long moments, the world is silent but for her blood pounding in her ears and her own ragged panting in her chest as slowly, the fire burns down. The first thought she has again, still hardly able to feel anything but the blood rushing through her body, is that she might not be walking straight at work tomorrow. The thought makes her shudder a little as Catra gently massages her, easing the tension in her legs.

Adora finally manages to open her eyes, staring blankly up at the ceiling for a few long moments. Her entire body is shined with sweat just from the intensity, but she can feel tear trails down her face, even if she does not know when or how they got there. She blinks a few times before she manages to cast her gaze down to Catra’s face.

Catra is straddling one of her legs, a wet streak making it _clear_ what she was doing while Adora was in the throes of her orgasm, riding her thigh as she writhed beneath her. Catra is flushed and purring, her expression soft and gentle as she watches Adora. Adora knows that expression well – it is the same one she wears every time she gets to watch Catra fall apart beneath her.

Adora is in pieces, if not reduced to _ash_. She is still trying to catch her breath as Catra rises from her perch on her spread legs, shifting to rest on the bed beside her and gently guide her legs to fall together again. She is _definitely_ sore, but right now she is too shaky-limbed to really feel it. She is probably going to be flexing her thighs in her meetings just to feel the soreness anyway. She has no regrets about how long she let Catra have her way with her.

Catra reaches out for her, brushing stray hairs from her face before she bends to press a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “You did so well for me, beautiful. I’m going to let your wrists down now. Don’t try to move your arms, okay? I’ll take care of it for you,” Catra tells her. Words are definitely still beyond Adora, so she just hums and nods a little, nudging into the kiss. Catra’s purr rolls louder, her post-orgasm rumble tinging with affection and amusement. She bends down to press a soft kiss to the corner of Adora’s mouth before she leans up for the restraints.

Adora really wants to kiss her, but she is still catching her breath. She lets her eyes fall closed as Catra gently undoes the buckles on the cuffs, laying each of Adora’s arms out on the pillow as she frees them and then tucks the restraints away. Catra massages Adora’s arms where they are stretched up on the pillow, kneading and working them until some circulation returns, and then she gently brings them down one at a time to fold over her chest.

Catra kisses her forehead again as she resumes the gentle massage, bringing her arms back to life slowly. “I’m going to go get a rag to clean you up. I’ll be right back, and then I’ll keep taking care of you,” Catra promises her. If Adora had words, she would protest, because she is already _fantastic_ and she does not want Catra to leave, but the best she can manage is a sad sound and small shake of her head.

Catra seems to pause, though her hands never stop their massaging. “It would just be to the bathroom for a few seconds. Do you need me to stay?” Catra asks, gently. Adora opens her eyes, blinking slowly up at her as her vision comes back into focus. Catra’s expression is soft, but there is an edge of concern there. Adora swallows and wills her voice to work despite the dryness in her mouth.

“Be quick?” she asks, a little needy, but she does not _care_. She is allowed to need her wife. Well, not yet, but _soon_. Eventually. Catra’s concern slips away, smile soft and loving as she leans forward and kisses Adora’s cheek.

“I will be right back,” she assures. Catra disentangles from Adora slowly, slipping off the bed and snagging the empty glass from the nightstand as she goes. Adora listens to the sound of water running and the linen cabinet opening, absently flexing her arms to determine if they are good enough to move yet. The movement is weak, but she manages to stretch them out and lay them on the bed at her sides by the time Catra returns with a rag damp with warm water and a glass filled with cool water.

She helps Adora sit up a little to drink it before she wipes at the trails on her cheeks, swiping over the sweat gathered on her forehead as well. She shifts down and gently coaxes Adora’s legs apart again. She cleans the absolute _mess_ of Adora’s prolonged desire, as well as the streak she left on Adora’s thighs when she was riding her leg to her own completion.

Afterwards, Catra hesitates for a moment before pulling off those sheer underwear that _murder_ Adora. The front of them is darkened from dampness. Catra tosses them in the general direction of the hamper as she cleans the fur on her inner thighs as well before tossing the rag actually _into_ the hamper this time.

Adora reaches for Catra when she finishes, her arms functioning again, and Catra purrs happily as she crawls into Adora’s arms. Catra nuzzles against her neck, marking her right over the spot she had made earlier. “You were so good for me, Adora. I loved getting to bring you over like that,” Catra tells her, pressing a kiss to the dark mark she left on the side of her neck. Adora shudders, letting out a soft noise of contentment as she draws Catra closer.

She wants nothing more right now than the feeling of Catra’s fur against her, her fiancé wriggling a little as she settles in and buries in her neck. Adora feels the sheer fabric of the bralette press against her own chest and shudders at the contact. “I still want to take care of you,” Adora tells her, despite how weak-limbed she is at the moment. Catra purrs with amusement, making no moves aside from the sweep of her tail.

“I got off, but you still can - just rest first. We have time and I know you like to cuddle afterwards,” Catra tells her, rubbing her cheek against her shoulder now, still purring. Adora snorts, but she draws her arms a little closer around Catra.

“You turn into a complete lap cat when you come,” Adora points out, lifting her head to press kisses to Catra’s ears. Catra growls, soft and half-hearted even as she butts her head up into the affection. Adora smirks to herself, but she continues to kiss the soft fur there. Catra has no room to talk with how needy she gets post-orgasm. Adora loves it, but that does not mean she won’t rib her about it.

“Stop spreading lies,” Catra grumbles. Adora actually laughs at that, causing Catra to flatten her ears back at the rush of air, growling again. She is still rubbing her cheek along Adora’s shoulder.

“You love being held. You could just let yourself have that, you know,” Adora tells her, kissing the top of her head. Catra immediately turns her head so her ear is beneath Adora’s lips instead. Adora smiles to herself, but she returns to kissing it.

Catra does not bother acknowledging her words with a rebuttal, seemingly too content being in Adora’s arms to argue as she soaks in the affection. Eventually, Adora will recharge and take care of Catra herself, but right now she is more than happy to lavish her fiancé in gentle kisses and affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The ring.](https://www.etsy.com/listing/706605258/yellow-gold-ring-with-princess-diamond)  
> So the knotwork pieces are something I have as a headcannon for how marriage works in the Crimson Waste in canon. They resemble Macramé. Basically, you propose by asking to make the piece/presenting the ropes you would like to use. The period while you work on it together is the engagement, and by cultural rules (since there is no government), you are married when the piece is finished, although additions for major anniversaries, childbirths, etc may be made.  
> In my Modern Etheria AU, this tradition is used by several hybrid species, since rings aren't totally compatible with them, although some races have their own cultural traditions. The proposal and piece work the same as in canon, but traditional weddings may be held as well, and an official marriage certificate has to be issued.  
> Aftercare. That is all.


	18. ACT II: Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some non-linear scenes, jumping between the past and present day. The content of these scenes delineates them, but they also start with the first sentence in italics. I never use blocks of italic text since it is hard to read for many people, including myself.  
> The lake house is a mid-century modern [along these lines.](https://cdn.onekindesign.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/Rustic-Mid-Century-Home-Ryan-Group-Architects-17-1-Kindesign.jpg)  
> CONTENT WARNING: This chapter contains flashbacks. The scene starting with “ _Adora does not want the mouse._ ” contains treating an injury caused by child abuse.

On Thursday evening, Catra wanders into their bedroom to check on Adora. She bursts out laughing and immediately turns back to face the hall as Adora lets out a confused noise of protest.

“Catra? What? What did I do?” she asks, her voice getting stronger as she approaches Catra from behind. Catra is not laughing _that_ hard, mostly just snickering to herself, but if she has to turn around and see the confused puppy look she knows Adora has on right now with the contents of suitcase still visible over her shoulder she is going to be _finished_.

“Got plans for this weekend, princess?” Catra asks, her shoulders shaking a little. Adora is close enough behind her that she feels her hesitate, turning back to look at the suitcase she was in the middle of packing for them. _Now_ , Catra turns back around, purring in amusement at the embarrassed flush on Adora’s face as she realized what Catra has spotted. She turns back to Catra, looking sheepish beyond just _flustered_ and into the _might be internally panicking_ category.

“Adora, it’s fine. I just think it’s funny to drive Lonnie around with _that_ in the trunk,” Catra assures her, reaching out to cup Adora’s cheek, turning her face so she meets Catra’s eyes. Adora is still obviously embarrassed, but at least the worried edge vanishes. Cautiously, she reaches out for Catra’s waist and tugs lightly. Catra easily lets herself be pulled into Adora’s arms, rubbing her cheek along Adora’s neck, hoping the mark will assure her.

“I had a – _thought_ ,” Adora says, voice still embarrassed, but determined. Catra’s purr rolls louder, well aware of category this _thought_ fell into.

“And are you going to share this thought, or was it supposed to be a surprise for once we arrived?” Catra asks, pulling back from her neck and stretching up to press a kiss to the side of Adora’s jaw. Catra’s teasing seems to be giving her confidence again, at least. She is still flushed, but her gaze is questioning when it meets Catra’s, worry gone.

“Mostly a surprise, but I was thinking I could use it on you, if you would be interested in that. I was _going_ to ask, but I also didn’t want to bring it up out of nowhere, so I was going to wait for a moment where-“ Adora starts. Catra cuts off her ramble with a flat look that draws her to a halt. She sucks in a breath, holding it and waiting for Catra’s response. Catra shifts her arms to bring them around Adora’s shoulders, stretching up to kiss her cheek again.

“Yes, Adora, I would be _interested_. But it _is_ going to be funny to drive Lonnie to the home knowing we have a strap-on in our backseat,” Catra assures her, dropping back down from standing on her toes. Adora’s face breaks into a smile now, her arms wrapping around Catra’s waist to hold her close as she leans down, pressing a kiss to the base of each of Catra’s ears. She always kisses them in turn, never neglecting one after she has paid attention to the other.

“It does feel weird to visit knowing we have it, but if we drove back here for our bags after visiting the home, it would be well past dark by the time we reached the lake,” Adora tells her, shrugging. Catra hums softly, an acknowledgement as she butts her head up again. Adora laughs softly, but she bends down to lavish Catra’s ears in _several_ kisses that have her purring to herself.

Adora is right, and Catra does not particularly _care_. They are just picking Lonnie up from the apartment she shares with Rogelio, since he will be driving straight from work to meet them at the home for the visit. Lonnie won’t be going through their bags, and she _certainly_ won’t be going up to the lake with them that night.

The getaway was Angella’s idea, actually. The lake house is upstate, so they will likely be arriving around nightfall anyway, but they will have all of Saturday and part of Sunday there. Apparently the Queens have gone up for Adora’s birthday in the past, but with everything going on this year it never came up. Angella’s smile had been a bit melancholy as she suggested it.

“The week before they ran away, Hope had me cover with our parents while she took Mara up there for the weekend. When she came back, she was happy and relaxed in a way she had not been since well before graduation. I think that is where she proposed and they decided to runaway from all the stress of the business that was already starting to crush her,” Angella explained.

It was a break from the stress of work and the search for Mara, and it would give them some quiet time to work on their knotwork design together, but Adora also liked the idea of following in her parents’ footsteps. Adora told her it was beautiful up there, and they would have plenty of privacy to enjoy themselves and celebrate the engagement. They spent a lot of time at home, and changing things up for a weekend would probably be good for them.

The excitement of the impromptu trip is _almost_ enough to make Catra forget to worry about the visit to the home.

\--

Adora is equal parts excited and nervous to show Catra the home. She is proud of what Angella built for her, a sprawling house out in the suburbs twice the size of Shadow’s so the kids have actual _room_ , but she is worried about it being too much for Catra. Every effort was made to build a place totally unlike Shadow's, with carefully hired care staff and a sprawling, _safe_ yard for the kids so they don’t have to play in the streets, but a group home is always going to be a group home in some ways.

Adora visited for the first Christmas it was open, bringing presents for the kids. She had to leave handing them out to the staff when the flashbacks got bad enough that they were near-paralyzing. Some of them were Shadow – but some of them were just _Catra_ , moments she had and _lost_ with her. Having Catra by her side this time, Adora is not worried about herself. She doesn’t know how Catra will do, though.

Catra has been nervous for the visit. Adding the lake trip to weekend roster has relaxed her a bit leading up to today, but she has been quiet for most of the car trip to pick up Lonnie. Even once they pick up Lonnie, the three of them idly catching up and passing stories, Catra is more reserved than usual.

Lonnie relays how Rogelio is enjoying his new job at the plant nursery, despite having to work weekends. He doesn’t mind, apparently, when he actually enjoys the work. He was skilled in gardening from growing his own poison ingredients, and those skills have transitioned well to non-fatal plants, even if he has to learn the specifics of the new species.

Lonnie is having a tougher time. Right now, she does not have a job. When Adora texted Rogelio, he told her Lonnie had finally figured something out, and now Adora is arranging to get Lonnie into the local community college for an auto mechanic degree. Lonnie was always good with her hands, and though her knowledge now may be sparse, she knows some basics and is confident she can make it work.

Adora is happy for them – Catra is too, she can tell – but Catra does not get less nervous as they finally reach the home and park in the driveway. Adora takes her hand as soon as they exit the car, and Lonnie makes a snide comment they both know is a joke, but Adora raises her eyebrow and holds up her left hand anyway. Catra cackles, some of her tension easing, as Lonnie chokes on her own tongue.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Lonnie mutters as they wait for Rogelio to arrive. Catra actually laughs, hopping up on the hood of the car to grin broadly as her.

“She cried _a lot_ ,” Catra relays, smug and content. Adora rolls her eyes, moving to stand beside Catra’s perch and reaching for her. She _did_ , and she doesn’t give a shit who knows it, but her fiancé is still being a shit. Lonnie scoffs, the information clearly not _surprising_. Catra lets out a pleased trill as Adora grabs her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the hood to kiss her. She keeps it chaste – she doesn’t know if any of the kids are watching through the windows, after all – but Lonnie mutters a few more curses all in the vein of _fucking really_.

“You both disgust me,” Lonnie gripes as they pull apart. Catra grins broadly, opening her mouth to give what would no doubt be a _terrible_ reply, but she is cut off by the car Adora bought for Lonnie and Rogelio pulling in to the other side of the drive. As soon as Rogelio gets out of the car, Lonnie shouts for him – despite there being only _meters_ between them – gesturing violently in Adora’s and Catra’s direction.

“Get a load of this shit,” she says. Rogelio says something clearly questioning as he rounds the car, but Adora just holds up her hand in explanation. Rogelio immediately lights up. He definitely congratulates them, Adora doesn’t need to speak lizardfolk to know that, and she smiles broadly at him, beaming as she takes Catra’s hand.

“She asked me last weekend,” Adora tells him. Rogelio makes a sound she knows to be the lizardfolk equivalent of _delight_. It is too much mushiness for Lonnie, who makes a noise of disgust and shoulders past them for the front door. Adora and Catra both exchange an eyeroll at her, but they smile as they do so. Adora, completely unnecessarily, guides Catra with their joined hands as she hops off the car.

They follow Lonnie to the porch, Rogelio trailing behind them. The superintendent of the home greets them when they knock on the front door of the gleaming white house. The moth hybrid greets them as she begins to lead them into the home. By the time they hit the living room, she has already tried to thank Adora twice, causing her to wrinkle her nose. Catra cuts in for her.

“Thanking her for putting this place up is thanking her for living in the shithole it used to be. Quit it,” Catra tells her, ears flattening and eyes narrowing as she stares the woman down, her tail whipping in irritation. Adora feels herself blush as Lonnie whistles long and low behind them. The superintendent doesn’t even correct Catra on her language, cowering a little and nodding sheepishly.

The tour properly begins, Catra leaning more _irritated_ than _upset_ now. It is sad that is an improvement. In the hallway leading to the main living room, they stumble into a familiar face. Tommy stares up at Catra as Catra stares down at him, cringing a little towards Adora’s side. Tommy was ten when Catra was taken, a fresh face to home who had never been through a Hordak visit before. He was years younger, none of them were _friends_ , but he is the only one of the original kids from Shadow’s home still living in the group home, the others all aged out, in private homes, or adopted.

The conversation is brief and stilted, none of them really knowing what to say to each other. Tommy’s tail is tucked between his legs, and Catra’s is wrapped around Adora’s side to keep from lashing. The superintendent picks up on the awkwardness and shoos Tommy along, but Tommy pauses to say he is glad to have seen them before he runs on. He is sixteen now, but he drops to all fours to run down the hall and toward the back door like he is still a pup. Quietly, Catra draws in a breath.

\--

_Catra gets home late from school – detention,_ _again_. She is dragging her feet on the way, already in trouble and not _so_ eager to get back and earn some fresh lashes. Her back has been mercifully clear the last two weeks, but that streak is sure to come to a swift end once she gets back to Shadow’s. She keeps trying to brace herself as she walks, but then she remembers what is coming and feels nauseous. She is so caught up in the mental loop that she does not notice the car in the shitty, cracked driveway until she is walking past it and she feels her heart stop.

Sleek black, non-descript but indicating more money than anyone in this neighbourhood has. Catra feels her breath knock out of her lungs and then she is dropping to all fours, taking off in a run she has not used since she was a _kid_. Shadow beat the habit out of her, sick of the claw marks dug into her floor, but as Catra throws open the front door and bolts up the stairs, she does not care about the lashes she is adding to her count.

Adora turned fifteen last week. Hordak is here now, and he almost always takes someone between fifteen and eighteen. Catra bolts down the upstairs hallway, claws digging into the wooden floors to bring her to a scraping halt outside of their bedroom door. Her own panic is a little too high right now for her to detect any other scents, but she flings the door open and-

Adora looks up, a bit startled, from where she is hunched on their bed over her assigned reading. Catra feels her lungs start working again, her heart pounding with relief as she crosses the room, climbing up into the bunk with Adora. Adora smiles at her as she knocks the book aside and crawls into her lap, demanding attention. Normally, knocking stuff around would earn her a reproachful look, even if it was a playful one, but not today.

“Shadow told me to stay out of the way. I hoped you wouldn’t come home until after,” Adora tells her, quietly, as she brings her hands up to scratch Catra’s ears. She does not have to say more. Catra nods, pushing back into those absolutely _magic_ hands. No one else is in the room, likely cowering around the home or trying to play nice – but not too nice – for Hordak. They can indulge in some affection for the moment.

Usually they only hold each other like this in closets or when they sneak out together at night, but the jolt of fear Catra had felt needs to be calmed somehow. She is already in trouble for the gouges in the hallway anyway. She is already in trouble for being late. She might as well enjoy Adora’s hands, gentle on her by choice rather than the necessity of bandaging a wound.

\--

Catra is quiet after they run into Tommy. Adora made her promise to alert her the second she needs to cut this off. They agreed if she needed to stop then Catra would twist the ring on Adora’s finger to alert her, but she does not give the signal. Adora still switches to an arm around her waist, rather than just holding her hand. Catra releases a rumble soft enough Adora only feels it and does not hear it, but it helps her relax a bit as they make their way into the kitchen, where a chore chart is hung up on the wall.

The superintendent explains how all the necessary functions of the home are done by the staff, but that as kids get older they start helping with the various necessities like dishes, cooking, and laundry to build the life skills. She says the phrase “life skills” a lot in the explanation, actually, and Adora watches Catra tune out just as quickly as she does.

Part of Adora wonders if Angella had anything to do with the emphasis on _life skills_. When Adora came to her, she had never so much as held a dollar bill, could hardly use a microwave, and didn’t know what insurance was, really. She could do laundry and clean, and she was skilled at first aid, but that was the most she was prepared for life. The superintendent launches into an entire explanation about the chore assistance rotation as Catra continues to stare blankly at the chart.

\--

_A blonde-haired, blue-eyed human couple come to visit the home._ They are looking to adopt and have a teenager in mind. Catra hears them talking to Shadow. It does not take a genius to put together that they are here to visit Adora. Catra takes off through the halls, searching for her. She follows her scent through the home and finds her hidden away in the laundry room.

“Are you seriously doing chores you don’t even _have_?” Catra asks her, trying to put as much snippy attitude in her voice as she can to cover up the fear shaking in her lungs as she carefully closes the laundry room door behind her. She never closes it – Shadow can lock it from the outside, and she would not put it past the bitch to lock her in. Catra does not want anyone to catch sight of Adora, though. Besides, being locked in here with her would not be so bad.

Adora buys her façade at least, snorting and looking up from where she is sat cross-legged on the floor, folding a load of laundry as she pulls it piece-by-piece out of the dryer.

“ _No_ ,” she returns. Catra raises a skeptical eyebrow as she crosses the small room to drop down beside Adora. She is glad Adora can’t pick up the scent of fear on her and does not seem at all perturbed by Catra coming careening down the hall. Catra _does_ do that sometimes, hyper and worked up, just taking off to try to burn away the excess energy, but she usually can’t just sit down afterwards either.

“Shadow told me Carolina has been slacking on her duties. She wanted me out of the way while some potential parents were visiting anyway, so she had me take it over this morning. Are you going to go out there?” Adora asks, eyeing Catra as she sets aside the shirt she was folding. Catra feels herself swallow, her gaze darting towards the laundry room door.

Catra’s answer to that question is the obvious _no_. They have had this conversation already. They do not want to get adopted by themselves into some strange couple’s home. The implications had been obvious – they only have five years left until Adora’s eighteenth birthday, and then it can be _them_ , free and together. Catra is not going to trot out like a show pony to be taken _away_ from Adora. Maybe Adora thinks the kiss changed that.

Catra flushes, remembering that night just a month ago. She turns back from looking to the door, intending to tell Adora she doesn’t give a shit about the visiting couple, but she finds herself openly staring when she sees Adora has pulled all the laundry out of the dryer that she _always_ unloads one piece at a time, making an unruly heap on the floor. Adora smiles at her, a bit shy. They do this sometimes, but even when Catra asks for it, Adora usually doesn’t acquiesce. There is always the risk someone else will pick up Catra’s scent and tell Shadow.

“Shadow will be busy with the parents for a while, and nobody else has any reason to come in here,” Adora defends, her cheeks blazing as she catches Catra’s expression. Catra decides that if she doesn’t want awkward things brought up between them, she had better just take the fucking invitation. Adora is still clearly trying to _make up_ for the whole thing. She rarely takes this risk, but she is doing it now because she knows Catra loves it.

“I am not _complaining_ , Adora,” Catra returns, climbing over her lap to curl up in the soft pile of warm laundry. _Warm_ in a way few things are in the home. Even sleeping at the end of Adora’s bed, Catra gets cold in the winter, but she knows better than to crawl up into her arms. Catra purrs as she nuzzles into the warmth, luxuriating in it even as the entire pile shifts from Adora pulling another piece out of it.

“You complain about everything. You would even complain about this,” Adora retorts, even as she tousles Catra’s ears gently before returning to her folding. She is right, just not _this_ time. Catra lets out a low growl, but she stretches her hands out to knead into the softness as Adora begins to hum softly to herself.

The couple is not taking Adora away. Shadow had someone else in mind for them, maybe. Likely she just does not want anyone to take her favourite pet away. Too bad for her that Adora is _Catra’s_ , not hers. And right now, Catra has Adora with her as she sinks into the soft warmth.

Eventually, the heat slowly fades and the pile dwindles. When it is all gone, Adora pets through her mane and over her ears while she rearranges the folded laundry into stacks according to each article’s owner. Catra must be in an unbelievably good mood, because she helps Adora carry it upstairs to the bedrooms and deliver it amongst the various bunks.

\--

They make their way upstairs, where most of the bedrooms are, but their visit there is brief. They don’t enter any of the bedrooms, a level of privacy that was never provided at Shadow’s, but a few have their doors open as they would by. There are no bunk beds here, just twin mattresses placed against the walls. Scuff marks from claws run the length of the hallway, and the sight makes Catra twitch a little at Adora’s side, but she says nothing. Actually, she has pretty much said nothing since she told the superintendent off.

Adora pointedly takes Catra’s hand with her left, squeezing it in a clear signal that she can easily shift and twist the ring right now, without even having to take the prerogative of grabbing Adora’s hand herself. Catra squeezes her hand back and then drops it. She is clearly uncomfortable, but she is not ready to leave. Maybe, like Adora, it is difficult for her, but something she has to do.

The kids in the home largely ignore them they make their way through it. They were likely informed of the visit, and on the surface Adora knows they look like just any other set of young couples visiting, though the thought actually makes her cringe. Catra picks up on it, her ears twitching as she looks up at Adora with obvious worry. Adora shakes her head, mouth twisting wryly.

“It just occurred to me that we’re at the same age as some of the young couples that would visit the home. We could easily be here to meet with a kid,” Adora explains. Catra wrinkles her nose, ears pinning back as she processes _that_ revelation. Lonnie lets out a noise of disgust while Rogelio coughs.

“I hate that,” Catra decides. Adora nods her agreement. It is a bizarre thought to be in the place she grew up - or at least, what replaced it - and realize she is old enough to be one of the shadowy, transient figures that used to pass through it. Lonnie's expression is still tinged with a bit of a disgusted curl. None of them were ready for that revelation.

The superintendent leads them outside as the final stop on the tour. A group of eight kids are playing there, though they are not all playing _together_. Adora can’t help but smile to herself and nudge Catra when she notices a pup chasing after a dragonfly flitting around the birdbath. Catra flushes crimson and tucks into her side with a glare up at her before she looks away, her tail lashing.

\--

_Adora does not want the mouse._ Catra knows this. She still tried to bring her the fucking mouse.

Catra whimpers softly as Adora runs the cloth down her back. No matter how gentle Adora’s touch is, how long she stood in the bathroom with the water running so the rag could be warm, the two lines on her back that went beyond _swollen_ to _bleeding_ still sting as Adora carefully cleans them. They are far from Catra’s first switch wounds, but they are out of disinfectant, so Adora has to be a little harsher as she cleans them to ensure they are actually _clean_.

Shadow had not been happy about Catra bringing a _plague beast_ into the house. Catra actually caught it in the kitchen, but Shadow did not give her the time to explain that before she was being dragged by the mane to Shadow’s office. The mouse got away, too, which means Catra is going to have to catch it _again_ before it gets her in trouble the next time it turns up. It was already here. It is fucking _Jersey_. There are mice and rats everywhere.

“Sorry,” Adora murmurs when Catra releases a hiss of pain as she drags the rag through her fur. Her voice is low and gentle, her hands are too, and it makes Catra tremble under her touch. No one else treats her like this. She doesn’t know why. She doesn’t know what she did to make damn near everyone but Adora hate her. Even Adora’s friends that put up with her – Lonnie, Rogelio, Kyle – they don’t _like_ her. They would never treat her with this care. Well, Kyle might, but he doesn’t have the arm strength to be rough.

Adora leans away, slowly standing from the bed as she apparently finishes with the cleaning she is going to do tonight. “I’ll be right back. Stay on your stomach,” Adora tells her, voice still quiet. She drops a hand to Catra’s shoulder, the only exposed part of her it is safe to touch right now, squeezing gently before she leaves to wash out the rag in the sink.

They can’t afford to run it through the washer. They have only managed to hide away three rags. They cycle between them to treat their wounds. Well, Catra’s wounds. Adora only has two scars on her back so far, despite having been here since before Catra. Catra’s first memory is meeting Adora, Shadow tossing her things to the foot of a bunkbed and telling her that she better not disturb the bottom half’s resident.

Said resident returns, still wringing out the rag a little, trying to get it as dry as possible before she tucks it away in the dresser. Adora climbs back into their bed, reaching out to pet softly at Catra’s mane as she lays out beside her. Catra is shirtless on her stomach, a pair of ill-fitting shorts all she really has on, but it does not matter to her. Catra nudges closer, knowing the risk she is taking by asking for affection, by even _touching_ Adora. She just needs to be beside her, just like she had _needed_ to bring her the mouse.

Her needs are dumb, and they get her in trouble nine times out of ten. She still gives in, leaning into Adora’s hands. She deserves _something_ after this god-awful day. Neither of them speaks, but Adora continues her gentle affections on Catra’s ears now as her back dries. It still stings with every breath, but eventually it scabs over and it is safe for Catra to put on a shirt again. School is going to suck tomorrow, it always does, but at least she gets to have this moment with Adora.

\--

Catra’s eyes are still downcast from when Adora pointed out the pup. Adora feels herself frowning, pulling Catra a little closer to her side and earning a noise of disgust from Lonnie that she steadfastly ignores. Catra’s breathing is perfectly even, her expression blank, but she reaches for Adora’s left hand, and that is all Adora needs to smile at the superintendent and thank her for showing them around. The woman takes the hint, accepting the thanks as she leads them back through the home and bids them farewell at the front door.

Adora bids Lonnie and Rogelio goodbye in the driveway. Catra murmurs a few words in parting, but her ears are pinned back and Adora can tell by the twitch of her tail that she needs to get Catra privacy. She walks Catra around to the passenger side door, opening it for her and not even getting a _complaint_ as Catra slips inside.

She says goodbye to Lonnie and Rogelio one last time with a call and a wave as she rounds the car to get in the driver’s side. Both of them are clearly eager to leave as well. As much as this was something that they all needed – it sucks, Adora knows from experience. She ducks into the driver’s side, looking over to Catra with worry. Catra sighs, her seatbelt buckled but slumped a little in her seat, her arms crossed.

“Start driving. Sitting in a driveway is the same thing as standing in the open to a sniper,” Catra grumbles, her eyes as downcast as her ears. Her tail is tightly curled around her own leg. Adora is familiar enough with Catra Code by now to know what she is actually saying – she wants privacy, and a moving car gives her that. Lonnie and Rogelio are only sitting a few meters away in their own car, after all.

Adora turns on the car. Catra twitches when the radio starts and Adora immediately turns it off, all-too aware the sound can be overwhelming for Catra sometimes. She pulls out of the driveway, deciding to focus on driving until Catra is ready to talk. They have plenty of time – the visit to the home was even shorter than Adora anticipated, and the lake house is about three hours Northeast from here.

Catra doesn’t say anything for a while, balling herself up in the passenger seat, but she reaches her tail across the gap between them so it lays in Adora’s lap. At first she gets to pet it at every light, but then they get on the highway and her hands have to return to the wheel.

“I hate my memory, sometimes. A lot of the time. It was just all so _clear_ ,” Catra says, eventually. She doesn’t sound upset, just tired, but Adora feels herself frowning as she nods. Catra always had a picture-perfect memory. It didn’t help when most of her memories were dark like that.

“I was thinking about after that first kiss, the stupid little things you would do to try to _make up for it_ or whatever so you wouldn't scare me off. Like when you let me climb in the warm laundry, and then Shadow found out and gave us both new scars?” Catra tells her. Adora winces a little, but she nods. She doesn’t remember it _well_ – it has been ten years, after all – but she definitely remembers the broad strokes. She only has a handful of scars. They stand out.

“I'm just glad we got to be here,” Catra says, softly. Adora draws in a breath, reaching towards Catra without looking away from the road. Without words, Catra takes her hand and holds it, her fingers idly tracing the ring on Adora’s finger. They drive in silence, but it does not feel so heavy anymore.

\--

The memories were a lot, heavy and thrown in sharp relief by the _brightness_ of the new home. Seeing Tommy was the real catalyst – seeing the way he looked at them with awe, seeing him happy and carefree as he ran with no consequences, no anticipation of anger. Catra’s memory has always been like this, though, and she knows the best way to shove it down.

As the scenery changes from suburbs, to the city, to the tree-lined road upstate, Catra talks. She focuses on the good memories that pop up. For years, the only thing getting her through was clinging to her memories of Adora, and now she weaponizes them, fighting her brain when it tries to bring up the perfect details of an encounter with Shadow and instead asking Adora _do you remember_ when a memory pops up of her and Adora curled together in a closet, Catra mouthing along Adora’s arm to gain some measure of relief as her adult fangs grew in.

Adora brings up her own memories, and soon they are reminiscing about the private moments they shared growing up. Adora’s memories are vaguer than Catra’s – sometimes she gets things wrong and she has to correct her – but at some point it goes from clinging to the happy moments as waves of memories wash over her to just reminiscing. It almost feels like the right thing to be doing as they approach the lake house where they will celebrate the culmination of the last twenty years together.

“Do you remember when we met?” Catra asks, softly, as they finally pull off the highway. She has never asked this, at first not _knowing_ that Adora did not remember things like her, and then afraid the moment did not have the same significance for Adora it did for her. Catra knows better now, and if Adora does not recall it then it is just a testament to how bad her human memory is compared to Catra’s. Adora, however, beams bright and happy.

“I think that is my first _real_ memory. I vaguely remember what the daycare I used to stay at looked like, but that is it before Shadow’s. The next thing I know there is the fluffiest kitten I’ve ever seen at the foot of my bed,” Adora tells her, smile fond even as her eyes stay fixed forward. Catra does not _intend_ to trill, it just kind of _happens_ , and she is grateful Adora has to focus her eyes forward to drive because she knows her blush must be furious. She does not know _why_ , just that her tail is thumping heavily against the seat beneath her. Adora’s smile is turning wicked and satisfied now.

“You were _so fluffy_ as a kitten. I swear your mane was bigger than you were,” Adora continues, still grinning at the road. Catra huffs, turning to look out her window if only to hide her blush. At least her body is starting to calm _down_ now. She was worried this was another _thing_ for her – Adora quickly found her weakness for being called pretty and soft, but if it turned out _fluffy_ did things for her she would not have forgiven herself.

“It’s kitten, isn’t it? You like that,” Adora says from the other side of the car, still smug as Catra feels her fur fluff up. Her tail is lashing again. Adora actually curses and makes a desperate grab down for the gear shift when Catra’s tail hits it, but she didn’t hit the button needed for it to move, so the temporary panic turns out to be unwarranted. Catra _hopes_ it will be enough to distract Adora, but Adora chances a glance at her as she returns her focus forward and frowns when she catches her embarrassed expression.

“Catra? Is that too much?” Adora asks, her brows drawn together as she stares out at the road, clearly nervous now. Catra huffs, running a hand down each of her arms to help smooth down her fur. Yes, it was definitely _too much_ , but given the instant response her body had, she doesn’t necessarily want Adora to stop. She had said it innocently at first, just a _descriptor_ , but some part of Catra’s brain had not taken it that way. By the second time she said it, Catra had caught up and not reacted, but then she had to do it _again_.

“No, it’s just… I don’t know why I reacted like that. It was always demeaning, before. It feels wrong to like it,” Catra grumbles out, ears pinned back as she stares determinedly out the window. Adora lets out a sigh, a bit sad.

“Yeah, I remember when you clawed someone for calling you that back in middle school. And he totally deserved it, he was being an asshole. I… It isn’t _wrong_ , Catra. You like being vulnerable when you feel safe to. You know I don’t want to hurt you with it. That is probably all it is,” Adora assures her. Catra’s ears twitch, her gaze still fixed outwards at the trees blurring past. Adora is right – he did deserve it, and Catra _definitely_ gets off on when Adora gets her to the state where she can be fragile and Adora will treat her like she is glass. Catra huffs to herself.

“I don’t think I can handle it if you call me that with our clothes on,” she deflects, not acknowledging the _accuracy_ in Adora’s words, but she chances a glance over to her. The corner of Adora’s mouth quirks up, the frown clearing from her face.

“You could just _say_ you want me to use it during sex,” Adora points out, tone light. It is cautious, still, exploratory. Catra rolls her eyes, slumping down a little in her seat.

“Where’s the _challenge_ if I tell you what I want? Use your detective skills, Adora,” Catra complains. Adora snorts, rolling her eyes as they finally pass a large sign for the lake resort. She pulls off onto the entrance drive, a large lodge coming into view ahead.

“My _detective skills_ tell me you want me to fuck you with the strap while I tell you how pretty you are,” Adora replies. Catra nearly chokes on her mewl, squirming in her seat as heat flares to life between her legs. Adora pulls into the parking lot outside the check-in lodge, turning to send Catra a shit-eating grin as she struggles to recover.

“You’re an _asshole_ ,” is the best she manages.

\--

They head into the main lodge, Adora checking them in and getting the house keys back from the cleaning staff. They called ahead so the house would be prepared. Unlike most of the vacation homes on the lake, the Queens' house was completely privately owned. It helped to keep it secure and meant they could do and leave whatever the hell they wanted there, but it also means the place spends most of the year gathering dust. If they didn’t want Catra’s allergies to act up, they needed the cleaning staff to sweep through before they arrived.

Unlike the tour of the group home, Adora is just plain excited to show Catra around this house. The property is a several minute drive past the security gate, but the distance affords privacy. The house is nestled amongst the trees, the front facing the lake while the back of the house protects the pool for privacy in the backyard.

“Why is there a pool at a lake house?” Catra asks as they get out of the car, wrinkling her nose. Adora rolls her eyes as she pulls their suitcase from the trunk.

“Rich people don’t swim in lakes, they’re _dirty_. They like the lake for the view and boating, I guess. I always just enjoyed being in the woods when we came up here,” Adora returns. The house is mid-century modern with a few rustic touches to give it a _five-million-dollar cabin in the woods_ vibe. There are floor-to-ceiling windows throughout most of it, giving the place that in-nature feel that Adora loves from her breakfast nook.

“I would go hiking around the lake whenever we came up here. As long as you don’t wander too close to one of the other occupied homes, there is plenty of beautiful scenery,” Adora explains as she carries their suitcase up the steps to the porch. Catra raises a brow at her as she sweeps the surrounding area visually.

“And if you _do_ come too close?” Catra asks while Adora unlocks the front door. Adora is grateful she is turned away to undo the lock. She doesn’t want to admit her _thought_ for their weekend plans has a source. She had wandered upon it by accident and quickly retreated to the Queens' house, but as soon as she realized she would be up here alone with Catra, a possessive part of her had immediately pulled the memory out. It was a clear reminder that, barring a few exceptions, the privacy up by the lake provided opportunities.

“The pool is around the back of the house for skinny-dipping,” Adora explains briefly, blushing as she devotes her attention to the lock. Catra snorts with amusement as Adora finally opens the front door. She drops their suitcase just inside, relocking the door behind them as Catra begins to explore the space. Adora flings herself onto the couch while Catra pokes around the living room.

It is a security sweep, but it is also just _Catra_ , familiarizing herself with the new space before she can be comfortable with it. Even if they could clearly see inside the main open-floor space through the windows, Catra prowls about it cautiously. When she is finally done checking inside all the cabinets in the kitchen, Adora stands and follows her on her path through the house, into the four different bedrooms, the home theater, and the upstairs lounge. Catra wrinkles her nose at the master bedroom.

“We aren’t sleeping here. Those blinds don’t provide enough security, and there is no way I’m letting you be unconscious feet from an exterior door,” Catra tells her, motioning to the wall of windows containing a sliding door that opens onto the pool area. Adora rolls her eyes, taking Catra’s hand and leading her back out to the guest room with the largest bathroom – a bathroom that almost rivals the guestroom itself. This room is on the second story, and one of the few with a normal window, rather than the floor-to-ceiling variety mostly found throughout the house.

“I’m _pretty sure_ that is the bed Glimmer was conceived in, so no, we aren’t. I stayed in this room usually. As much as I like nature, the shadows in the woods freaked me out when I woke up from my night terrors,” Adora explains. Catra sends her a distraught look.

“ _Why_ did you tell me that?” she questions. Adora snorts, heading back out of the room to collect their suitcase. Catra trails after her as she makes her way back down the stairs.

“Because Angella – for some reason – told Glimmer, and then Glimmer told me. The misery has to be shared,” Adora informs her. She glances over her shoulder to catch Catra stick her tongue out at her. “Come on, let’s get unpacked, and then we can find somewhere to settle down with our ropes,” Adora tells her, gathering up the suitcase. Catra softens, her ears perking up as she nods.

\--

They end up on the balcony that overlooks the pool, curled up on an outdoor couch there. They aren’t to the stage of even _beginning_ to work on their piece yet, but Catra got a set of practice ropes so they can work on their knots. They spend awhile curled together, Catra in Adora’s arms as they alternate between Catra doing the work in her own lap or guiding Adora’s hands while she does it with Catra thoroughly _in the way_. Adora never asks her to move, smiling to herself the whole time.

They discuss their design as the night falls around them, the many lights around the property and pouring out through the windows giving them plenty to see by still. When Adora is working, Catra pulls up images she has saved on her phone, a mix of meaningful knot references and designs she likes that incorporate them. When Catra is working, Adora watches carefully and googles meanings. She is still deciding what she wants to bring to the design. She has made a few suggestions, but she has openly admitted to avoiding knowledge on this topic because it always made her think about what she and Catra would have made together.

 _That_ makes Catra want to curse herself out for ever thinking she should stay away, so she focuses on the knots forming beneath her fingers. They are getting better, but undoing them is difficult without accidentally slicing them beneath her claws. Adora hums softly beneath her as she scrolls through reference image libraries on her phone, the sound adding to the song of crickets and the lapping of waves in the background.

It feels peaceful – until Catra hears a branch snap in the distance. She moves on instinct, grabbing Adora by the shoulders and yanking her up, shoving her _back_ towards the balcony doors. Not that all the glass windows provide _much_ safety, but there are walls on three sides at least. Adora lets out a startled cry, stumbling as Catra shoves her inside the door they left open.

“I heard something,” Catra hisses to her as she turns around, her eyes scanning the area. Her heart is pounding, fear radiating off both her and Adora as her fiancé catches up with her panic. The area is brightly lit, but Catra does not actually _see_ anything. The sound she heard was loud – it was definitely more than just a squirrel. But as she scans the area, she sees nothing – not until she catches a low shadow moving in the distance.

The shadow is large, but low to the ground and moving _away_. Catra spots the sweep of a tail as the shadow moves into the more unkempt part of the forest, beyond the edge of the house’s property, and breathes a sigh of relief. A wild animal, movement smooth on all fours. Even Catra, comfortable and fast as she is running on all fours, does not move that _smoothly._ She swallows, forcing her fear down as she watches where the outline disappeared in case it returns, but the night is quiet.

“A wild cat, I think. It had a tail,” she breathes, turning back to Adora. While Catra was staring out into the night, Adora shuffled to lean with her back against the wall, making herself a smaller target while keeping Catra in sight. She _should_ have run straight for one of the interior rooms, but at least she did something. They’ve talked about the night Lonnie and Rogelio broke in multiple times now, and Adora has never been able to answer what she would have done had Catra been in real danger. Catra has _tried_ to impress on her that no matter what, the thing she wants most is Adora safe, but Adora has always fired back that she wants the same for Catra.

“There’s an Eastern Cougar that lives up here. One of the groundskeepers told me about it when he caught me hiking in the evening. They’re nocturnal, and there has never been an incident anyway,” Adora assures her. Catra nods, bending down to gather their practice knots and phones from where they had fallen in the startle.

“Come on, let’s go inside. It’s getting late, anyway,” Catra tells her, sparing one last glance out towards where the big cat had disappeared. That explains the sound – cougars are _large_ , as long as a standing human even without the tail. Cats are skilled at moving silently, but a misstep would leave a heavy footfall.

Despite knowing there is a perfectly peaceful, _normal_ explanation, Catra feels unsettled as she guides Adora back inside. She doublechecks the house’s security once she has Adora in the bedroom. As she makes her way to turn off the house lights, she checks every entrance is locked and that the security system is on.

She hesitates when she hits the panel to turn off the external lights. In the resulting darkness, she squints out into the tree line. She swears she can see that large shape again in the distance. It is close to the ground, and vanishes quickly from sight as she watches. Catra stares out the window for several moments more, but nothing happens.

Of course it doesn’t. It is just a cat. A big ass cat, sure, but so is she. She can take them if need be, and they would have been safe from it up on the balcony level anyway. She _knows_ it is a cat, or a similar animal, from the way it moves.

When she returns to the bedroom, Adora has changed for bed. The shades are drawn, the only light the lamp on the nightstand. Adora smiles at her, a bit cautiously. Catra shakes herself out, changing into her own night clothes and crawling gratefully into Adora’s arms.

This is their weekend getaway. She is always going to be alert, but tonight there is no threat. She still regrets not bringing her guns. She doesn’t like to use them, and she certainly was not going to leave them unattended in the truck while they explored a _children’s home_ , but if something were to happen it is the safest bet for Adora to defend herself.

Adora strokes her hair, pressing soft kisses against the side of her face as she cuddles into her arms. Catra feels her heartbeat slowly calm down as she lets herself settle into her – future – wife’s embrace. They are safe here, she reminds herself. She still feels like she sleeps with half an eye open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the second chapter since their first time without smut, but I ran out of wordcount.  
> So fun fact about the Eastern Cougar – it is extinct in the wild, but every now and then there is a sighting (or even a shooting because people suck) in one of the Northeast states. They are most active at twilight, but also nocturnal.


	19. ACT II: The Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra hates herself. It wasn’t a fucking cougar. She should have known better. She let Adora _sleep_ here.

Adora does not have night terrors that frequently anymore – having an assassin protecting her while she sleeps certainly helps – but sleeping in a new place with an adrenaline rush right before bed is enough to trigger one after the gap. Adora wakes with a jolt, letting out a strangled cry before she registers Catra on her chest, hands in hers keeping her down on the bed. Catra's voice is soothing, gentle murmurs in her ears.

“I’m right here, Adora. You’re safe,” she promises. Adora is breathing heavy, but she manages to swallow and nod. She tugs weakly on their entwined hands, distantly wondering how much she was flailing that Catra was _holding her down_. Catra lets go immediately, letting Adora raise her arms to wrap around her and crush her down to her chest.

“I’ve got you, princess,” Catra assures against her neck. Adora releases a shaky breath.

“Pretty sure I have you, right now,” Adora points out, flexing her arms as the adrenaline comes down. At least light is streaming through the blinds – it is not _too_ early. The bolt of adrenaline definitely helps, but she feels awake. They probably got enough sleep. Catra snorts in her arms.

“You’re the _worst_. Let me comfort you, asshole,” Catra tells her, but she presses a soft kiss against her neck and then rubs a mark against the spot. Adora sighs happily beneath the affection. Having Catra in her arms does a lot to calm her. Even when she does have nightmares now, it never affects her day like it did before. Actually getting to sleep before and after the dreams helps, too.

“Did I wake you?” she asks, softly. Catra shakes her head against her neck.

“It’s past eight, now. You just started flailing next to me,” Catra tells her, pressing another kiss under her jaw before she pulls back to look at her appraisingly. “You’re doing okay?” she questions. Adora smiles, feeling her expression soften as she reaches up to stroke Catra’s cheek, finishing the gesture with an affectionate scratch under her chin. Catra’s eyes slip closed with her responding purr.

“Yeah. You’re here,” Adora answers, leaning forward to give Catra a soft kiss. Catra’s purr vibrates between them, making Adora giggle a little, but she presses in again to deepen the kiss, humming to herself when Catra’s lips part. She kisses her, morning breath and all, for several long moments before they part for air.

Adora slides her hands down to Catra’s hips, tugging in suggestion. Catra looks a bit amused and confused, but she complies, shifting up to oblige Adora until she is straddling her waist. Adora pulls her closer now she is lined up, sighing happily as tucks her face in against Catra’s collarbones, nuzzling into the soft fur above the neck of her nightshirt. Catra purrs in amusement, Adora feeling the vibration in a _direct_ way that is new, but she continues to nuzzle into the softness of her fiancé.

“What’s the plan for today, princess?” Catra asks, shifting a little to brace herself on her forearms above Adora so Adora can keep snuggling into her. Actually, this really is not the best position for this.

Adora has been training with Catra a lot over the last four months, and it is with great pride that she quickly shifts her hands, hooking her legs up and flipping Catra with the same maneuver that she used on her the first weekend they got together. Catra blinks up at her in shock, eyes wide and blushing, the fur on her shoulders fluffing up just a little in her sudden fluster.

“Adora, it is _eight in the morning_. It is not the time for grappling practice,” Catra hisses, but she is far from _annoyed_. Her tail is puffed still as it sweeps _hopefully_ across the sheets. Adora grins down at her briefly before shifting up a little between her legs to continue to nuzzle against her chest, hands drifting down to the hem of her shirt.

“Wanted to snuggle,” she provides as explanation, rucking Catra shirt up to expose her stomach so she can nuzzle into the soft fur there as well. Catra huffs, but her tail is _still going_ , so Adora is not fooled in any way as she squirms in the sheets a little to get comfortable beneath her. Catra drops a hand into her hair, stroking through it. It feels nice, soothing, as Adora nuzzles against the delicate fur on Catra’s stomach.

“What’s the plan for today, princess?” Catra asks, eventually, when it becomes clear Adora is quite set on continuing to just bask in her presence. Adora hums to herself while she thinks it over, pressing a few kisses into Catra’s stomach just to feel her muscles jump and stand out beneath her lips.

“I want to go down to the docks. We won’t get too close to the water, it’s just really pretty over there. I want to do that at sunset, though. And I want to go for a hike. We should probably do that before it gets too hot. Midday, we can do whatever you want. Stay in or go out,” Adora decides, kissing Catra’s hip now. Catra purrs softly, scratching a little at Adora’s scalp. It doesn’t do the things for her it does for Catra – that gesture would have her melting in a purring puddle, hands kneading at whatever they could reach – but it still feels _nice_ and Adora leans into it happily.

“How about the hike after breakfast, then? After that – I believe you made me a promise yesterday, princess,” Catra tells her. Adora feels her breath stutter, nodding against Catra’s stomach. She can _definitely_ do that. She has a whole plan built around that, actually.

\--

Adora is a certifiable asshole. Catra glares at her back as they make their way back inside the house. It gives her a full view of Adora’s back muscles, cut lines that _do things to her_ flexing as Adora pulls the bedroom door open. At least she can’t see her abs. Adora decided to forgo a shirt entirely for the hike, sticking with just her sports bra and shorts.

She made a comment about how hot it was going to get as she did it, but she _grinned_ when she saw Catra’s tail lashing, so she knows better than to believe her fiancé. It was likely revenge for Catra bringing up her _promise_ so long before she could fulfill, but it definitely seemed like an overreaction by hour three of the hike when Catra was watching sweat beads run down Adora’s abs. At least they were heading back by then.

Adora continues to be an asshole when they return too, throwing Catra a cocky grin and declaring she needs a shower. Catra knows what her intent is. Despite being excited for once they actually get _in_ it, there are too many opportunities to get distracted on their way there. They get the water running, and then Adora pins her against the wall with a thorough kiss. Adora takes off her ring and down her ponytail, setting both accessories on the counter, and Catra feels compelled to mark her neck now she is no longer visibly _claimed_.

Getting undressed is its own disaster. Catra watches, eyes roaming and hungry, as Adora pulls off her sports bra and gives her a _show_. Catra can hardly look away when she bends over, breasts swaying, to pull off her shorts and underwear in one motion. Adora tosses the clothes into the hamper, smirking to herself when she straightens and sees Catra looking. Catra growls in frustration, worked up after so much teasing.

She makes Adora undress her, because she can, and it helps ease her a bit. Catra knows she always has control, especially when Adora is taking care of her, but this is a way she is asking her to _show_ it first – something to ease her into relaxing before they get in the shower. Catra trusts Adora implicitly, but sometimes that bridge is necessary. When she has felt uneasy like she did yesterday, letting Adora take control feels _right_ , but it is not always easy to do.

Adora pulls her shirt over her head, careful not to tug on her mane as she goes. Catra leans back against the shower divider, allowing Adora to kneel before her to pull her shorts and underwear down her hips. Adora presses a kiss to her hip as she does so, smiling into her fur when it makes Catra purr in response. She straightens, one hand on Catra’s waist and the other cradling her jaw as she kisses her, slow and sweet. Catra hums into the kiss, feeling the fire that has been building spark now she has Adora pressed against her. Adora pulls back, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she straightens. She smiles down at Catra, easy and warm.

“The water should be warm enough now,” Adora points out, taking a step back and reaching for her hand. Catra lets herself be led into the shower. Adora pauses to turn the water up to a proper pressure, and then steps beneath the spray with Catra’s hand still in hers, tugging her into the water with her.

Showers are _conflicting_ for Catra. On one hand, she needs to take them, even if it is not quite as frequently as humans do. On the other, she hates water. She hates how the shower distorts her hearing and sense of smell so she feels blind and vulnerable within it. She hates having to dry her fur afterwards even more. The hot water of the shower feels nice, especially the hot water of _Adora’s_ shower with its stunning water pressure, but she knows that whenever she gets out she is going to spend at least fifteen minutes drying off.

There is also the favourable point of _wet Adora_ to consider. Catra lets Adora pretend this is a normal shower for as long as it takes her to wash her hair, and then she crowds her against the tile wall, sighing in contentment against her lips as she kisses her with the warmth of the steam around them and the steady pressure of the water against her back. Adora’s skin is _luxurious_ when wet, soft beneath her hands, a stark contrast to Catra’s own wet fur that gets tugged at uncomfortably when rubbed the wrong way.

Adora _knows_ that though, so she is careful to only pet down with the grain as she slides her hands down Catra’s back, letting Catra have her way with her against the wall. She seems content to exchange control for getting to pet Catra, and that _shouldn’t_ make her shudder, but it does as she presses in tighter against her, hearing herself whine a little into the kiss. Adora likes to be on top – except when her sub tendencies get too strong – but she lets Catra have control when she wants it. She is letting her have it _now_ , despite how Catra doesn’t actually want it at all.

Catra pulls back from the kiss reluctantly, sending Adora a heated look she hopes she will understand the meaning of. She does, a grin breaking out across her face as she shifts her hands to Catra’s hips and flips them carefully, easing Catra until she has her back against the tile. Catra shudders as Adora kisses her again, hands running down her body and squeezing as they go. Adora’s kiss is slow and Catra has waited _long enough._ She arches her hips pointedly. Adora, the absolute asshole, pulls back and chuckles. Catra glares up at her, reaching out and tugging her back in to kiss her again.

“ _Adora_ , stop teasing,” Catra complains, arching her hips again. To her relief, Adora shifts her thigh forward, and Catra releases a hiss of pleasure at finally getting _contact_. Adora presses her leg between Catra’s firmly, hiking it _up_ to press against Catra with a pressure that is almost bordering towards painful but still so _good_. Catra whimpers, letting her eyes fall closed as she tilts her head back against the tile wall.

“Love seeing you like this,” Adora murmurs, pressing a kiss along the side of Catra’s face, despite the water droplets running down from her mane. Catra lets out a soft noise, something between appreciation and protest, and rolls her hips forward against Adora’s thigh. The contact feels so good, even broad and indistinct as it is.

“Adora,” Catra protests again, wriggling her hips now against Adora’s thigh, arching her back off the tile wall to get more pressure. She told her to stop teasing already, and she _definitely_ is not in the mood to beg right now. Adora’s breath hitches at the sight of her movement, only encouraging Catra to do it _again_. The spike of pleasure between her legs helps too. Adora’s pupils dilate, her gaze sweeping down Catra’s body before her hands fall to her thighs. Catra feels a spark of excitement as Adora finally makes eye contact with her again, her gaze dripping with intent.

“I want to pick you up and have you ride my thigh against the wall,” Adora tells her, voice confident and _sure_. Catra whines, feeling the rush between her legs at those words – or maybe it is from the contact as she instinctually rolls her hips forward upon hearing them. She nods, desperate and _ready_ , turned on for so long that even just Adora’s thigh sounds like relief. Adora grins at her, her hands on her hips flexing briefly before she lifts her up.

Catra’s legs spread, letting Adora lift her to pin her body between the wall and her chest. She lifts her a little, but keeps her low enough that Adora can rock her thigh forward and rock against _her_ before she retreats again and repeats the motion. Catra moans, her arms wrapping tightly around Adora’s shoulders to hold herself up as Adora rocks her thigh, tensed and _so close_ to enough, up against her and then back again.

Every time she eases off, Catra wants to curse and hiss and maybe even _bite_ in punishment. She definitely releases noises of protests at least. They make Adora chuckle before she is pressing forward again _hard_ , no longer pulling back enough to break contact, but still switching between _enough_ and relaxing her thigh as she eases off.

Catra moans Adora’s name, desperate and uncaring as Adora backs off _again_ , still teasing her - still not giving her what she _wants_. It is working her into a desperate state, her body knowing nothing but _heat_ and the need to relieve it as she clings to Adora. On the next rock of her thigh, Catra rolls her hips down to meet her and lets out a small cry of relief. Adora groans above her.

“Do you want to go twice? I have a promise I want to fulfill after this. Otherwise we’ll have to stop and pick this back up,” Adora tells her, voice low but breathy and _teasing_. Catra whines, nodding far too quickly as she rolls her hips again. She can _definitely_ go twice – especially knowing what Adora wants to do _after_ this. Adora groans at the needy eagerness of her response, rocking her thigh forward and _holding_ it there.

\--

Adora had been _intending_ to work Catra up until she thought she was ready for the strap. Catra had gotten her in an utter state before she used it on her, and it definitely helped with being able to take it and just feel good from it. The sight of Catra letting herself go on Adora’s thigh alone had changed that plan.

Adora helps Catra towel off, enjoying running the fabric over her body, exploring and kissing as she goes. Catra makes some weak protests about _wet fur_ that Adora silences with a flat look and another kiss pressed against her navel. She kind of loves showering with Catra, fur caught in the drain be damned, if only for the opportunity to dry her off afterwards. Adora runs the towel over every part of Catra’s body, drying her fur and chasing the towel’s wake with kisses as she goes. Catra is _supposed_ to be drying her hair while Adora works on her, but she ends up with her hands gripping the edge of the counter while Adora squeezes and feels along the planes of her body through the cloth.

Her orgasm in the shower seems to have loosened her, easing her to where she can just soak in affection at a slow pace and enjoy it. Her soft sighs echo off the bathroom walls as Adora finally finishes on her body – well, aside from her back – and sets to drying her hair. She kisses her long and slow between every pass, and Catra merely braces herself against the counter and lets Adora work. When her hair is close enough to dry, Adora gently turns her around to face the bathroom mirror as she runs the towel down her shoulders and the ridge of her spine, previously hidden behind her soaking mane.

Catra’s arms are shaking slightly by the time Adora finishes. She is _definitely_ worked up again. Adora tosses the towel aside in the general direction of the hamper, her hands coming up to stroke down the lines of Catra’s body while she locks eyes with her in the mirror. Catra’s eyes are half-lidded, her muscles jumping under Adora’s hands as her fingertips skate over them. Despite how blatantly turned-on she is, there is a questioning look in her eyes.

“So what is this grand plan of yours?” Catra asks her, voice a little rough. Adora blushes, not breaking eye contact as she steps closer to wrap around Catra’s back. She only looks away briefly to press a kiss to the nape of her neck.

"It's private up here. I wanted to take you in front of the windows. There's no one to see us, but the thrill will still be there,” Adora explains, watching Catra’s reaction. Catra fights to suppress a shudder, Adora can tell, but she _loses_. Adora grins over her shoulder, but she doesn’t say anything, waiting. Catra opens her mouth, silent for a moment before she finds her voice again.

“The back windows, so no one on the lake sees us,” she clarifies, her eyes burning when they meet Adora’s. Adora shudders now with the realization that this is actually _happening_. She nods immediately and a small smile quirks at the edges of Catra’s mouth. “Alright, princess,” Catra agrees, finally leaning back from the counter.

They head back into the bedroom, Catra grinning when she produces the strap from their suitcase. She insists on putting it on Adora, which has her flushing but also _agreeing_ very quickly. It is wholly unnecessary – the strap is simple and wouldn’t have taken much figuring out – but the heated look of intent in Catra’s eyes as she tightens the harness over Adora’s hips is reason enough.

They make their way downstairs, which is kind of an awkward and ridiculous walk with the harness on. They both laugh about it as Catra tugs her to the back windows. Catra draws in a breath as she turns and faces out to the back patio and pool area. The trees surround the backyard, shielding them from anyone’s view, but it still feels _thrilling_ , knowing there is that risk.

“Holy shit,” Catra whispers, clearly feeling it too as her fur fluffs up on her shoulders. Adora watches her carefully as Catra reaches out, placing one hand against the glass and then the other, slowly leaning forward and bracing herself there as she adjusts her stance to spread her legs. Her tail whips back and forth, still puffed up, as she stares out the back windows, totally on display and yet _not_. For all the world to see but still Adora’s and Adora’s alone. The thought sparks a hunger in her, a need to move forward and finally _take_ this, but she needs to check first.

“Is this okay, Catra? We can still go back to the bedroom,” Adora assures her, stepping forward and placing her hands lightly over her hips, steadying her. Catra shakes her head immediately, turning to glance over her shoulder. Her face is flushed, her eyes a little blown out. The raw desire in her expression is almost enough to knock the air out of Adora’s lungs.

“I want to do this. I want- what you said yesterday,” she assures, blush blazing even brighter. Adora closes the gap she purposefully left between them without even thinking, kissing Catra immediately and insistently, pressing up against her back and trapping the strap between them. Catra moans softly, shifting back to rub against it and squirming in Adora’s embrace. That is all Adora needs to decide it is time to finally _do_ this.

“Eyes forward and hands on the glass, kitten. Tell me your words,” Adora tells her when they pull back from the kiss. Catra shudders in her embrace, eyes glazing over, but she turns and looks forward dutifully, readjusting her hands on the glass like they had been before.

“Red for stop. Pink for slow. Blue for go. _Blue_ , Adora,” Catra lists off. Adora can just make out the ghost of her reflection in the glass, blatant neediness coming across even in the indistinct shape. Adora grips one of Catra’s hips firmly, holding her in place as she slides her other hand down her stomach, carding through the soft fur there, still a little damp from the shower, until she reaches between her legs where she is _soaked_.

Adora groans as she runs her fingers over her, paying attention to her clit for a few moments that have Catra softly whining and moaning, but making no demands for _more_. “Such beautiful sounds for me, and I haven’t even started yet,” Adora murmurs into her ear, drinking in the delicious shiver that earns her. She slips her fingers further down, gathering some of her slick on her fingers and pulling her hand back around as she takes a half step backward.

Catra leans towards the glass eagerly, pressing forward where she is braced against the glass and giving Adora a better angle. Adora runs her hand along the toy, slicking it a little before she brings her hand back between Catra’s legs, but from behind this time. Catra gasps softly as she probes at her entrance with two fingers and finds her open, her fingers sinking easily into warm heat. She pumps her a few times, watching Catra’s arms tremble slightly, but she is so worked up Adora easily adds a third finger quickly.

“You’re so ready for me. I’ll take care of you, beautiful,” Adora promises, dropping a kiss against Catra’s shoulder as she rocks her fingers forward. Catra whimpers, voice soft and weak. Adora can see her eyes are closed in her reflection, lips parted as she pants now. She is braced close enough against the glass that her breath puffs condensation against it.

Adora pulls her fingers out slow, satisfied Catra is ready but missing the velvet softness around her fingers, getting to _feel_ every twitch as she touches her. Catra sucks in a sharp breath, holding it in anticipation as Adora strokes her fingers along to toy again. Hopefully Catra’s state and the transfer slick will be enough that this only feels _good_ like it had been for Adora. She wouldn’t be able to take it if she accidentally hurt her. Carefully, she lines the toy up against Catra’s entrance, letting her feel it press there.

“Are you ready, kitten? We can take longer if you need to,” Adora assures her, making sure to keep her voice soft. When Catra bottoms like this, when she _submits_ , she needs Adora to be gentle with her. Or at least, she likes her to be, and Adora wants nothing more than to give her what she desires. Catra nods eagerly at her words, gasping and shifting her hips a little to rub against the toy, but not _taking_ it like she had ordered Adora to.

“ _Please_ , Adora, fuck me,” Catra gasps out, far enough gone now to reach _begging_ rather than mere _requests_. Adora shudders, feeling the wetness between her own legs spread at that, but she ignores it because _this_ is what she wants, what will actually get her off. She takes the base of the toy in her free hand so she can guide it and carefully presses in.

Catra’s body offers a moment of resistance, but only a moment, and then the toy slides in as Catra whines, her arms giving just a little as she leans forward more - _bends over more_ – to give Adora a better angle. She only goes in halfway before slowly pulling back and earning a soft noise of protest. She pauses, but Catra immediately shakes her head, her eyes flying open in her reflection.

“ _Keep going_ , please. I can take it,” Catra requests, her voice ragged. Adora feels her hips twitch a little at that and wants to curse herself, but the slight jolt of the toy makes Catra moan and twitch herself, so her mistake clearly didn’t _hurt_ her. Adora takes a deep breath, releasing the base of the toy now she is buried halfway in Catra and taking both her hips in her hands so she can hold her still.

She slowly presses her hips forward, watching Catra’s eyes fall closed as she moans. Catra was right – she takes the rest of the toy as Adora presses forward, sealing their hips together and holding them together briefly, letting Catra adjust. After a moment, Catra whines in protest when she realizes Adora isn't moving. Adora feels something warm blossom in her chest as she shifts to press a kiss to the side of Catra’s face.

“I’m going to fuck you slow, okay, kitten? I love seeing you like this. Tell me if it’s too much,” Adora tells her. It makes Catra moan and shift her hips a little, but she nods, some of the tenseness in her shoulders leaking out now that she knows what Adora is going to do, surrendering to Adora’s intentions. Adora shudders at that thought as she pulls her hips back and then rocks them forward again.

Catra whimpers beneath her as she rocks her. After a few thrusts, Adora picks up the pace until it can properly be called a rhythm, but she keeps it steady and smooth, nothing too hard or fast. Catra has already come once, and the window seems to be doing enough for her anyway. She doesn’t want this over before she can really fulfill her promise.

“Open your eyes, kitten. I want you to see how pretty you are – how anyone could see you right now,” Adora tells her softly. Catra mewls at that, her eyes flying open and locking desperately with the reflection of Adora’s. Adora grins at her, upping her pace a little because she can’t help it, not when it makes Catra release involuntary moans low in her throat.

“There’s my girl. All mine. So pretty and no one else gets to have you,” Adora tells her, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck and watching as Catra struggles to keep her eyes from fluttering closed, whimpering and shuddering against her. “It’s alright, kitten. They could still _see_ you. See how you’re mine,” Adora adds, watching Catra’s gaze get distant as she switches from watching their reflections to actually looking out the window to the forest stretching before them. Catra _keens_ , the sound desperate and hungry.

“Adora,” she gasps, voice needy and _weak_ as she shifts back against her. “More,” she manages to add with her next breath. Adora ups the force of her hips, stroking into Catra with steady _purpose_ and earning trembling legs in response.

“My pretty kitten falling apart for me. It’s okay. I have you,” Adora assures her, voice low in her ear. Catra’s ear twitches at the rush of air against it, but she moans and shudders, her arms giving just a little and rocking her closer against the glass. The surface is clouded with condensation in front of her face, small droplets starting to run down it. Her fingers have also shifted a bit with the weak shuddering, revealing traces on the glass where she was previously braced. There are going to be handprints on the window when they are done, and the thought has Adora stuttering her hips forward.

Catra is worked up and desperate, releasing soft, panting _ahs_ with every thrust now, thin whines joining the sounds. Adora knows she has to be close now.

“I’m going to touch you now, kitten. Hold still for me. I want to see how pretty you are when you come,” Adora tells her, earning a cry close to a _sob_ that in no way discourages her. She shifts one of her hands from Catra’s hips, sliding it around to touch her again as she continues to thrust. Catra cries out, sound desperate and _close_.

“That’s it, beautiful,” Adora assures, sweeping her hand up to card through Catra’s soft fur trail for a moment. “My pretty kitten is so soft. Let me take care of you,” she murmurs, sliding her fingers back down to work her clit steadily. Catra cries out and she doesn’t _stop_ crying out, desperate sounds panting out as Adora works her close, close, _closer_ until her tail is puffing up, her final cry high and thin as her eyes fall closed and her entire body shakes.

Adora trembles herself, feeling how _soaked_ she is as she clenches her thighs. She keeps working Catra with her hand, keeping her movements slow and gentle now as she slows her hips until she is holding still as Catra shakes in her arms, panting and whining. It takes a few moments, but the whining gives way to purring, and the trembling tenseness of her muscles falls to limp relaxation.

Catra does not fall over this time, but she does sag weakly against the glass. Carefully, Adora pulls her hips back and eases out of her. Catra whimpers softly as she does so, her eyes blinking open and darting around for a moment as she seeks out eye contact. Eventually she locks eyes with Adora's reflection, but her gaze is totally glazed over still.

“It’s okay, kitten. I’ll take care of you,” Adora promises her, pressing a kiss against her jaw. In her arms, Catra’s purr rumbles louder.

\--

They end up in another one of the bedrooms, one with floor length windows that overlook the side of the house but that has no exterior door. The window thing had done more for Catra than she had been anticipating, and even once it was her taking care of Adora, she was not quite ready to give it up. Afterwards, they lay in each other’s arms while Adora strokes her back and Catra watches birds and squirrels flit around in the woods outside, eyes tracking the movements of the leaves when there is a sudden breeze.

After Catra brings Adora over twice – she gives as good as she gets – they lay curled in each other’s arms for a while, Catra purring in utter contentment as Adora hums softly and pets down her back and arms. Catra’s arms are feeling shaky from bracing herself on the window, even though the strain should not have been that much, but everything else about it turned it into a _struggle_. She doesn’t feel like her hands will be steady enough to work on her knots when they eventually decide they can’t keep laying there, so she picks up the legal pad she stole from Adora’s office earlier in the week and sets to sketching the current state of their design.

She is no artist, but she learned how to sketch simple diagrams for planning purposes. Adora lays beside her in the bed with the practice ropes, trying to follow tutorials on her phone and asking Catra for help when she can’t figure out the knots they are showing her. It is peaceful, both of them luxuriating in the presence of the other and occasionally shifting over to share the work they are doing. Catra matches Adora’s requests for help with her own requests for opinions. Eventually, Adora notices the time on her phone and they rise from the bed to get dressed.

Adora drives them over to the main docks where the lake's boat rentals are, and they watch the sunset from the top of the hill, looking out over the water as the sun sinks down into the horizon and paints it orange. It takes awhile – sunset always does – but eventually the sun is out of view and the sky is quickly darkening.

“As relaxing as it is out here, we should head back before it gets too dark,” Catra tells Adora, turning to press a kiss to her cheek. She knows Adora said there has _never been an incident_ – but she also knows that cougars are nocturnal. She would rather get back before they end up having to go through another panic. Today has just been calm and peaceful, especially after all the stress of yesterday. She doesn't want to ruin that right at the end.

Adora hums her agreement, standing and offering her hand. Catra smiles to herself as she takes it, walking hand-in-hand back to their car. Catra is feeling _content_ , sleepy from satisfaction as she curls up a little in the passenger seat. She breathes deep, inhaling the mix of her and Adora’s scents that permeates the car and purring softly as Adora drives them through the quickly-darkening forest road. Adora lets out a buzzing hum Catra recognizes as the noise she makes when she holds back a coo, but she is too content to particularly care.

It is hardly nine in the evening, but Catra kind of wants to curl up in Adora’s arms and go to sleep. Adora would let her. They could cuddle on the couch maybe, with one of Adora’s cooking shows on, and doze until bedtime – when they will be awake enough to have a reprise or two of their afternoon activities before they fall into sleep _again,_ thoroughly satiated.

It is a good plan, but any chance Catra has of following through with it thoroughly shatters when they return to the house and Adora unlocks the front door, Catra hovering over her shoulder. Catra sucks in a sharp breath when Adora pushes the door open and they are greeted with utter silence. The house alarm should be beeping steadily, warning them to quickly come and enter the code before it goes off, but it is disarmed. Silence rings in its place.

Catra hates herself. It wasn’t a fucking cougar. She should have known better. It was _person_ size, and she let Adora _sleep_ here. Adora assured her the place was secure – that two elections ago the _president_ had a house up here – but she could not ensure the safety here like she could at the estate. There is no security team to back her up. She has to get Adora to secure location, but where that _is_ brings her to a crossroads.

She could have Adora stay at her side and lead her to secured room in the house. Whoever this is either is not expecting them back yet and hasn’t had time to rearm things, or just is not very skilled and did not realize it would be an instant tip off. Both scenarios leave the underprepared to deal with her. She could insist instead that Adora go to the car, hunkering down and ready to peel out at the first sign of trouble, but there are too many risks with separating them, especially if there is an accomplice. They could just _leave_ and call the police, but it would take them a long time to get up this way, and she worries about the security being undone on _purpose_ to drive them away and into a trap.

Their best option is staying together and entering the house. If the intruder is there, they are clumsy or unprepared. Catra has the senses to ensure no one gets the drop on them, and she can secure Adora in one of the windowless rooms. Whoever is lying in wait, they aren’t doing it in the main living space, she can see that through the windows. There are traces of an unfamiliar scent, foreign and definitely hybrid, but fuck her if she knows which one. The scent is mostly covered by the smells of the forest – they have, after all, been lying in wait in it for at least a day now.

Catra fixes Adora with a look. Adora understands immediately, setting her mouth in a firm line and nodding. Catra slips past Adora inside the front door, and Adora follows her lead, sticking close to her back.

There is the possibility that this actually has nothing to do with Adora. The house is empty most of the year, as are many of the homes up here. If a squatter was able to find out the security codes and saw them drive away, or just saw the home empty when they came by this evening, they might have broken in just looking for a place to stay. The thought is not comforting, but it is one Catra considers as she leads Adora carefully through the living room.

Their best bet is getting Adora to the theatre upstairs so Catra can sweep the rest of the home. It is one of the few rooms with no windows, and closer than their bathroom. Unfortunately, her throwing knives are in their bedroom, so she is stuck with hand-to-hand unless she can get there while keeping Adora secured.

The foreign scent is stronger towards the stairs. Catra draws to a halt at their base. Unfortunately, _every_ room downstairs has a window, and she can’t leave Adora alone in a space like that, just like she can’t leave her alone in the car. The stairs open onto the upstairs lounge, which seems to be clear from her current angle. The home theatre is off of it – safety, as long as the intruder is not in there. Catra swallows and motions with her hand for Adora to follow. Adora sticks close to her back as they climb, Catra’s ears straining for any sounds.

A soft shift in their bedroom. Catra fights the urge to release a breath of relief. She can get Adora secured in the theatre and then take care of this threat. There is only one scent in the home, however unknown and odd. One intruder, and they appear to be shifting their weight heavily in the bedroom right now. There still could be accomplices outside, but as long as they avoid windows they should not be a threat.

Catra opens the door to the home theatre carefully, quietly, but she still hears the movement in the bedroom cease. She flattens her ears, feeling her heartbeat pick up as she grabs Adora’s arm and encourages her forward into the dark, windowless room after a brief scan to ensure it really is clear. Adora’s eyes are as wide as they had been the day she closed her in the closet. Catra swallows as she swings the door shut. It cuts off the scent of Adora’s fear a bit, at least. Catra turns toward the hall their bedroom is off of, cautiously creeping towards to it.

There has no been a noise since she opened the theatre door, but the scent gets stronger as she approaches the door. The intruder is still there, stock-still and waiting. They could have hearing like her and detected the near-silent sound of her easing the theatre door open. Catra pauses outside the bedroom door, her claws flexing as she strains to detect _anything_ on the other side of the door.

Breathing, steady and rhythmic, deep to reflect the person’s size. Near their bed, off the side towards the dresser and their suitcase. Low to the ground as if crouching. Either they are lying in wait on the other side of the bed, or they are going through their things. The latter would be a point in favour of squatter. The former would indicate a clumsy assassin. There are so many better plans, even if one was determined to use the bedroom.

Catra does not let either ease her as she reaches for the doorknob. Never underestimate an opponent – that is how she got her kills, after all - by being taken for less than she was. She opens the door slowly, relieved it doesn’t give an ill-timed creak as it swings open. It doesn’t matter – the intruder’s gaze is fixed on her over the edge of the bed as she opens it.

Catra _stares_.

“What the fuck,” she manages, blinking and still _gaping_. The creature tilts its head a little, one ear perking up, and then opens its mouth and lets out a series of – mews, maybe? – echoing her syllables roughly, like a parrot would. Catra continues to stare at the definitely-not-cougar.

But it isn’t anything _else_ either. It looks kind of like a cougar, the right size and shape, a similar face even, but cougars aren’t this colour and don’t come with jellyfish-like blue manes. The creature is currently squatted in their open suitcase, apparently trying to tuck their body into the box-shape that is _far_ too small to accommodate much more than its paws. Definitely a cat of some kind.

“Who let you in here?” Catra asks, despite feeling _stupid_ for it. The cat lifts an ear again before blinking at her and sweeping its tail, smug and self-satisfied. “No, you don’t have hands. You did not get in here on your own,” she dismisses, immediately. There was no one else’s scent in the house, but they could have disabled the security from the outside of the house, maybe.

This – is not a wild animal. It smells like a forest, true, but it also smells _domesticated_. It smells like the house had when they first arrived – traces of the forest that surround it circulating through the air, but also like human materials and _clean_. This could very well be a trap – let this animal in, intend for it to maul them, and write it off as a freak accident. If she were to go for this ploy, she would return later to open the backdoor to give the animal a clear entrance. It would be assumed they were careless with the door and were the unfortunate victims of a wild animal attack.

The creature trills now, tucking a bit deeper into the suitcase they will never fit into. Catra stares at it. It _did not_ let itself in. She is also having a conversation with it, which – okay, this is just getting weirder.

“My love? Don’t come out, but there’s an – animal in the bedroom. Someone let it in,” Catra calls down the hall, wanting to _update_ her to at least cut the panic. She isn’t putting it past whoever set this up to have a backup sniper, or to be waiting nearby for screaming before they swoop in. She thinks they are both safe for the moment – at least unless the cat decides to attack – but she also knows there has to be _more_ to this bizarre plan.

The creature chuffs, an irritated hack, and _stands_ , causing Catra’s fur to bristle as she takes a hasty step back and grabs for the door handle again, preparing to slam it shut should the creature lunge in her direction. The creature freezes mid-stretch, blinking at her quickly. Catra raises her hackles, growling in warning. The creature’s ears pin back, and its tail tucks down, but it settles in a standing position.

It ducks its head, ears still pinned as it slowly turns, watching her the whole time as it makes its way around the edge of the bed. Catra growls again in warning as it steps closer. “ _No_ , stay there. I’m not letting you near my wife,” Catra grinds out, _orders_. The creature freezes, its ears perking up to listen. It mews again, a garbled echo of the word _wife_.

Catra hisses, causing it to shy back a little. She shouldn’t feel _bad_ about that, but she does, a little. She can feel her tail lashing behind her, confusion and fear at this situation overwhelming her. The creature, to her shock, lowers its body to the ground and then slowly rolls over onto its back, displaying _trust_ to her. Catra stares down at it with wide eyes as it blinks up at her, slow and hopeful. She swallows, staring down at it.

“How did you get in here?” she asks. The creature blinks twice and then rolls over, standing slowly and then crossing the room, walking away from her towards the bathroom. Catra watches in shock as it stands up on its back legs, bracing one paw on the wall beside the bathroom door to stay upright, and bumps its nose against the security panel there to bring it to life. She _stares_ as she watches the creature effortlessly type in the code to re-arm the system by bumping its head along the panel with practiced ease.

\--

Catra stands in the entrance to the hallway, tail lashing as she watches their closed bedroom door. Inside, the “not-cat” – as Catra described it – occasionally paws at the door and mews. Adora recognizes the sound as distressed.

“I don’t know what it is, or what it wants with us. It _armed the security_ , Adora,” Catra hisses to Adora where she stands in the doorway to the home theatre. The creature pauses mid-pawing and then lets out an excited trill. Catra’s fur bristles. “It knows your name. I don’t like it,” Catra tells her, glaring down the hall.

“Maybe we should ask it? You said it’s intelligent. This would be a very weird assassination attempt,” Adora reasons. It would be utterly bizarre, actually. If someone knew their security codes, it made sense to disarm the system and sneak in, re-arm it, and lie in wait with a weapon. Better yet, poison the food with them none the wiser. It does not make sense to teach the code to a cat and let it in.

Catra glares at their door. “I don’t _speak cat_ , Adora. Some of the body signals are familiar, but _complex ideas_ are not going to be exchanged here,” Catra rebukes. Adora opens her mouth, about to point out the creature seems perfectly capable of understanding _her,_ but Catra stiffens.

“It’s moving,” she says.

\--

Catra opens the bedroom door, sending a threatening glare into the bathroom. The creature raises its head, blinking at her for a moment before it turns back to the bathroom cabinet it is pawing at. Cautiously, Catra closes the bedroom door behind her. She eases towards the open bathroom door, squinting down as the creature manages to hook its paw around the edge of the cabinet and fling it open.

“There’s only towels in there,” she tells it. The cat gives a dismissive flick of its tail, lowering its head inside the wooden box and nudging the towels aside. She raises a brow as the cat begins to paw at the back of the cabinet, scratching at the wood. “There’s nothing there,” she repeats. The cat chuffs, pulling back from the cabinet to fix her with an unimpressed look.

Catra – has no fucking clue what is going on. She has never met a creature like this before. She is confident it broke in itself, but she does not know _why_ , and that worries her. She has even less of a clue why it recognizes Adora’s name if it _isn’t_ here to hurt them. She knows it is intelligent, and yet here it is, pawing at a wooden cabinet.

Catra is getting a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Back off. To the shower,” she instructs the creature. The creature pauses, pulling back to blink at her for a moment. Catra huffs and points to the shower. The cat glances between her and the shower for a moment, but then it steps back and turns to walk the few meters away to the glass divider, winding itself behind it. It turns back to face her, sitting down purposefully in the center of the tile box and staring at her.

Catra can’t believe she is doing this. She never underestimates an opponent, but she really thinks this creature is not here to hurt them. She crouches down, peering into the cabinet. It is a wooden box, towels knocked over on its bottom, scuff marks now on the back panel from the cat’s pawing. There are screws at each corner, affixing the back of the cabinet to the wall. Carefully, she reaches inside and runs her claws along the seam at the edge of the backing, digging them in and _prying._ After a moment, the back panel the creature was pawing at gives, popping out like a lid and falling forward.

It is not the only thing that falls forward. Two file folders spill out, trapped between the back of the cabinet and the wall. Catra blinks down at them, at the papers half-spilling out of them. Catra turns to look up at the creature, who mews proudly at her, the sound reverberating off the tiles. With shaking hands, Catra reaches down for the folders, straightening them out a little before she flicks open the top folder, labeled _The M.E.L.O.G. Project_.

Catra stares at the clinical report before her, the photo of dark-skinned hands holding a purple kitten in place before a growth chart.

“Adora? I think I found the deliverable,” she calls.

\--

Melog – because that is their name, apparently, or at least they respond to it when Catra tries it – seems content in the shower for the time being. Catra wasn’t going to stop Adora from coming out once she knew she had the deliverable and they both knew it. She still insists Adora stay in the bedroom as she splays out the folder contents on the counter. It lets her keep an eye on Melog in the mirror, and Adora to lean in through the doorway and read the reports over her shoulder as she spreads them out. If Melog makes a move, the door to the bathroom can quickly be closed.

Now that she has _seen_ Melog, she doesn’t need the reports to tell her what they are. “Crytians went extinct like three hundred years ago. They were supposed to have extraordinary regenerative abilities, and there’s the whole-“ she cuts off to gesture at the photos of baby Melog, who resembles a potato, or maybe a guinea pig, “shapeshifting thing,” she settles on saying, even though it isn’t shapeshifting _really_.

It’s more like shape- _growing_. Her women’s studies professor was obsessed with the Crytians. They were genderless and grew into a form they identified with. That worked very well for the theme of her class, even if they produced very little in the way of artifacts to preserve their culture. It looks like Melog chose cat young, though the early photos resemble more _housecat_ than _cougar_ , but they did have to grow into their mass somehow. Adora pauses, turning to look Melog in the eye rather than through the distance of the mirror.

“Is there even an Eastern Cougar up here?” she asks. Melog mews proudly and shakes their head. Adora can’t help but smile fondly as she turns back to the reports, all typewritten or printed. Headings on all of them mark the company they belong to. “Any idea what S.W.O.R.D. is?” she asks Catra. Catra frowns down at the growth chart, her gaze getting distant.

“‘ _SWORD Laboratories has done extensive research into the genetic side of reproductive health.._.’ I was skimming something in your office, a document on one of the hard drives-“ Catra lists off, her face screwing up as she recalls the memory. She will get there in a few moments, but she does not have to. Adora draws in a sharp breath.

“Mara’s thesis. On combining DNA from two donors to create a child between two parents who couldn’t have one biologically,” Adora recalls, blinking down at the _stolen_ reports regarding cloning a Crytian back into existence. There is a report musing about the usefulness of their highly-adaptable stem cells. It is clear from this page _alone_ how much of Melog’s – childhood, maybe? – was spent being prodded with needles. Adora frowns, turning to Melog.

“You knew Mara?” she asks. Melog trills happily, standing and shaking their mane out. Catra growls a low warning at the movement, but Adora swats her shoulder. Catra narrows her eyes at Adora, her tail whipping in irritation, but she says nothing as Adora turns back to Melog. “Did Mara show you where she hid these?” she asks. Melog mews, high and affirmative.

“Adora, we can interrogate the cat later. You need to look at the other folder,” Catra tells her. Adora frowns, turning back to Catra with a touch of a pout. She expects Catra to roll her eyes at her, but Catra is not looking up from the first page of the folder labeled _The_ _She-ra Project_. Another page of typewriting, but there is no letterhead on this one. No, instead this page starts with _to whom it may concern_.

Adora sucks in a breath as she reads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is a suitcase if not a box. Adora was the one in charge of packing for a reason lmao.


	20. ACT II: SWORD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Adora, you have an extinct creature sleeping in your guest bed and that is the best insight you have?” Glimmer questions, incredulous. Adora blinks at her.  
> “They seem to have the same diet as Catra," she returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been mentioned before, but cats are carnivores! I’ve translated that to a grain intolerance for Catra, but she can have it, she just has to be careful with it.  
> I woke up the morning after posting the last chapter to the highest number of unread comments I’ve ever had (I do read them all, even if I rarely reply from a combination of anxiety and not wanting to give the story away). You guys really blew me away <3 Thank you to everyone who has commented - then or ever!

Catra wants to ask if Adora is sure. Instead, she leaves her to her moment of privacy, escorting Melog down the stairs and setting them up in the master bedroom. They can have it. They have, apparently, been living in this house for twenty fucking years after all. Catra was bothered by the exterior door, but Melog does not seem worried. They rub along her leg as she walks them there, nuzzling into her hands when she accidentally brushes against them.

Touch-starved, after being left here twenty-three years ago. A place where they could be safe, largely undisturbed barring the occasional visit from the Queens. For almost two decades, none of them even visited here after Micah had died and Hope was gone. They only started coming again for Adora.

Melog nuzzles into her hands and she absently pets their ears with her free hand as she flicks on the light. Melog pounces on the bed happily, setting about snagging the pillows in their mouth and dragging them around to make a large nest in the middle of the mattress. They trill in satisfaction as they turn a few times and then plop down, taking up almost the entirety of the bed. Catra watches them with a small smile on her face.

They are _cute_ , this extinct cat that Mara liberated. A science experiment, a living bag of regenerative cells as far as SWORD was concerned. Melog was just the experiment that provided the cells to make their other projects possible and nothing more – never treated as _alive_ according to Hope’s letter. And yet here Melog is, taking joy in nuzzling down into the sheets, blinking across at her slowly as she watches.

Either they trust her merely because they identify with her feline characteristics - since that is apparently a _thing_ for them - or just because of her association with Adora. It doesn’t matter why – Catra is not scared of them, not knowing why they are here. Not now she knows they spent time as a captive, not unlike her. Their purpose in prison was to _forward progress_ while hers was to _kill_ – but neither of them had a choice in their role.

In some ways, she muses as she turns off the light and closes the bedroom door, her squatter theory was _right_. Melog had thought she and Adora had gone and returned to their home. Catra checks the locks on all the doors and then makes her way back upstairs. She is careful to add weight to her footfalls as she approaches their bedroom door.

Adora was crying earlier. After they had read Hope's letter together and started _processing_ , it had hit Adora hard. Catra had carefully wiped her tears and held her close while Melog nudged at her hip and mewed sadly. Catra fully expects Adora to be crying again when she returns to the bedroom, but she still gave her the space she had requested. Instead, she finds Adora in her night clothes, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring blankly down at her phone screen.

Adora blinks, looking up at her with a bit of a delay as Catra opens the door. Catra locks the bedroom door and then crosses the room to sit beside her. Adora immediately leans into her side when Catra raises an arm to wrap around her. She glances down at the phone in Adora’s hand and realizes she has Angella’s contact pulled up.

“I don’t know what to say to her. I’m still processing,” Adora murmurs, voice a bit lost. Catra reaches out, gently taking the phone from her and putting it on the nightstand.

“Then process,” she returns, placing her hands on Adora’s shoulders and guiding her to lay back on the bed. Adora looks to her gratefully, clearly needing the permission in order to wait. Catra arranges the blankets and sheets for her, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she does so. She slips beneath the sheets with her and carefully drapes herself across Adora’s chest. Adora immediately wraps her arms around her back.

“You’re still you, Adora. Hope is still your DNA father. Mara is your mother more than you even thought,” Catra tells her, because it is the only thing she can think to say. She can’t imagine what Adora must be feeling right now. Adora swallows beneath her. After a moment of shaky silence, she speaks.

“They died for me. They are dead because of-“

“ _Stop_ ,” Catra cuts in, voice harsh. Adora freezes beneath her. Catra screws her eyes shut, fighting back her own tears. “Thirteen, Adora. And what do you tell me every time I have a nightmare?” she asks. Adora’s next breath is shuddering, but she dutifully recites-

“That blood is on Hordak and the people who ordered the kills, not you,” Adora says, softly. Catra growls, the only noise of confirmation she can make right now.

“It is on the assholes trying to protect their money. It is not your fault Mara wanted you to be born, Adora. That she wanted you to have a normal life,” Catra tells her, because really, that is what it came down to.

Mara was just a researcher, trying to do something noble. She realized too late the She-ra project was not just about helping women like her to be able to have children. She started questioning their intentions, fearing eugenics and designer babies – and then she met the source of the regenerative cells that were helping them _fill in the gaps_. The creature that made all their work possible.

She wasn’t part of the MELOG project, but Melog took a shine to her upon first introduction, so she helped out sometimes to keep the creature calm. After seeing what “life” the cat had, she knew that regardless of what the _intentions_ of the She-ra project turned out to be, the first child to come out of it was not going to be treated like a _child_.

So she took Adora. Or rather, she took Adora’s egg that they were developing. Her, and Melog, and whatever data she could get on either of them. She took everything that would let SWORD try again, according to the letter. They still had the data, but it was useless without enough viable DNA left to clone another Crytian. Without Melog they wouldn’t be able to make another egg with the same method. Mara helped to create Adora, and then she ran away with her.

Adora tightens her arms around Catra. Her breathing is unsteady, but she nods into her mane. “I just- don’t know how I’m going to tell Angella the reason her sister is dead,” Adora whispers. Catra thinks back to the letter. It was a single typewritten page, concise and to the point. It was, for the most part, a request to let Melog to continue to stay in the house, as they had nowhere else to go. It provided enough details to justify why Melog should be protected, but not much more.

It didn’t anticipate untimely deaths – not explicitly. There was the line _we just wanted a family, and to protect these innocent children_. There was an ominous air there, enough to know that Hope _feared_ , but the letter was written in case Melog was ever discovered, left for them to retrieve if they did not manage to clear out of the house fast enough when the family came up for one of their rare vacations.

It wasn’t a letter to Adora, as much as Adora probably _wants_ that now. It explains where she came from as surely as the She-ra file does, but it does not explain where Mara _went_. They still have work to do, but it finally, _finally_ , explains the past up until their murder. It explains why Adora never found _anything_ on herself before.

“I could tell her for you, or we could just give her the letter. But the _reason_ her sister is dead is because she wanted a child, and she loved her wife, and she wanted Melog to be free,” Catra tells her, reaching one hand up blindly to stroke through Adora’s hair. She can’t see her – Adora has her face buried in Catra’s mane right now, and Catra is not going to try to move her if she is finding it calming – but she hopes the touch will help soothe her.

“Well, at least I know I have something in common with my mom now,” Adora says after a moment, her voice a bit shaky. The words are _small_ , despite the attempt at humour within them. Catra pauses, frowning to herself. “I really love my wife,” Adora clarifies. Catra laughs, a little startled by Adora’s terrible attempt at a joke right now. Catra pulls back to shove playfully at Adora’s forehead and finds her smiling, even if it is fragile. Catra huffs, doing her best air of _annoyed_ as she shoves Adora’s face away despite how the fact she is joking just floods her with relief.

“Finish learning the lark’s head knot and maybe, but I’m not holding my breath on that being soon,” she points out.

\--

Adora wakes in the morning to Catra purring against her throat and kneading into her stomach. It hurts like hell, but she is not moving an inch. It took them nearly two hours to go to sleep. Adora kept spiraling, and then recovering, and then spiraling again. Catra comforted her through all of it, grounding her as Adora’s old survivor’s guilt threatened to drag her out to sea. If Adora was more philosophical, she might have questioned the meaning of life, but the meaning behind her birth was simple: SWORD wanted to engineer something that would make them money, and Mara just wanted to have a child.

Eventually, Catra wakes too, apologizing sheepishly when she realizes what she has been doing, but Adora just shakes her head and kisses her good morning. Even though it hurt, the massage at least felt good if she ignored the pinpricks of Catra's claws, and it was sweet. She loves Catra, unique mannerisms and all.

They pack their suitcase when they rise, plans to spend the day hiking around the lake thoroughly gone from their minds. They have to head back. They have research to do, they have to tell Angella what they found, they have to-

Figure out what the hell they are going to do about Melog, Adora realizes when they descend the stairs and Melog immediately comes bounding up to Catra. They shove their head into her hands, releasing a soft mew. Catra chuckles, setting about giving Melog the scritches she usually enjoys herself. Adora blinks down at the creature and realizes she had not even considered the fact they have been _alone_ up here yet. She was only processing one thing at a time last night, but the immediate demand for attention from essentially a _stranger_ throws the isolation in sharp relief.

Melog follows Adora around the kitchen as she sets about making omelets. It is not her preferred dish, but when the housekeepers stocked the pantry they did it off of the list Angella had on file, which predated Catra’s return to her life and thus didn’t take her diet into account. Most of the breakfast foods contained grain of some kind. Catra _can_ have grain, but her intolerance is enough that it should be avoided when possible. They are pretty much limited to omelets.

Adora pauses in the middle of flipping the first omelet, looking down at Melog. “What do you eat? Do you… want one?” she asks, curiously. Melog tilts their head, looking between her and the pan before mewing once.

“They’re curious, I think. I say try it,” Catra says from where she is perched on one of the counter stools. Melog thumps their tail once in response. Adora is not really sure what to make of them. They are clearly smart, but she doesn’t know how intelligent Crytians were. Melog seems to trust her just because of who she is, and they clearly like Catra, but they confuse Adora a little.

“What have you been eating?” she asks them as she pulls the first omelet off and brings it to Catra. Catra accepts it with grabby hands, clearly hungry. She might not have Adora’s appetite, but they are both active people and need to keep up their calories.

Melog stands and walks across to the back door, pawing once at its side and then looking back at her. Adora glances between Melog and Catra. Catra rolls her eyes, swallowing her bite before she answers. “Hunting, I think. Or grazing. Out in the forest, regardless,” Catra answers. Melog comes bounding back into the kitchen proudly, doing nothing to counter her statement as they settle to sit beside her, nudging their head into her lap.

Adora watches with amusement as Catra sets to petting the cat with her free hand. She can’t help but recall every time Catra knocked something out of her hands and demanded attention. Catra does not seem bothered to be on the receiving end of the behaviour. At least _yet_. Adora returns to the stove, setting on making Melog their own omelet.

Melog is not a huge fan of omelets, it turns out. Catra cackles at the clearly displeased face they pull as they eat, but they do eat it. Adora makes a note to google what kind of diet Crytians had later. It has probably been lost to time, but she might be able to figure out if they were omnivores or carnivores. She should know it going forward, no matter what happens with Melog now.

After breakfast, Adora goes upstairs to retrieve their suitcase, the file folders stowed safely inside. When she returns downstairs, Catra is sat on the couch, Melog spread out across the bulk of the seat with their head in her lap. She cannot help but pause to smile to herself, watching Catra so strangely relaxed in another’s presence. Her head is tipped back to rest on the back of the couch, her eyes closed as she absently pets Melog’s head, occasionally skating her fingertips along the surface of their mane. Adora has not touched it yet. She wonders what it feels like.

Melog cracks an eye open, looking in Adora’s direction. She watches them catch sight of the suitcase in her hand and immediately bolt their head upright, startling Catra a little. She raises her head from the couch, blinking in confusion as Melog lets out a distressed mew. They lash their tail once against the back of the couch. Catra blinks between them and where Adora stands at the bottom of the stairs.

“They don’t want us to leave, I think,” Catra translates. She ends most sentences about Melog with _I think_. She is very insistent on the fact that she doesn’t speak cat. Adora would never imply that she does, but Melog also _isn’t_ a cat, and Catra seems to at least understand their mood just fine. Adora blinks at the cat in her fiancé’s lap.

When she was spiraling last night, she wasn’t really thinking about the future, too caught up in her realizations of the past. She had not considered _next steps._ Melog’s ears are pinned back as they turn their head to Catra, nudging against her chest as if seeking comfort. Catra blinks down at them before hesitantly raising her hands to hug the back of their head against her chest. Melog lets out another soft mew, _sad_.

Adora can’t imagine what it must have been like, to go from being poked and prodded with only one gentle pair of hands in their life to then being whisked away, safe but _alone_. To be waiting and waiting for the next visit until they one day realize it is never going to come, and they are truly alone.

Adora sets down their suitcase, crossing the living room to crouch in front of where Melog and Catra are cuddled together. Melog does not raise their head from Catra’s chest, but Catra looks at her with baleful eyes. She doesn’t want to leave Melog alone, Adora can tell. Catra knows what it is like to go from being a prisoner to being free but _alone_.

“We do have to go. You gave us a lead on who ordered my parents killed. I have to chase it,” Adora starts, reaching a hand out to cautiously pet along their mane. It bends under her touch, which explains why Catra was just using her fingertips. She eases her pressure, feeling along the almost silky surface. It kind of feels like silicone. Melog wriggles their head a little, as if to bury it deeper into Catra’s chest. They let out a sad mew. Adora gets the distinct impression that after hiding for so long, they don’t want to be alone anymore. Her chest feels a bit tight.

She wouldn’t be here without this creature. The files don’t say the _specifics_ , just that Melog’s regenerative abilities were needed to keep her– to keep _the She-ra project_ stable while they were working on it. She looks up from Melog, making eye contact with Catra. A thread passes between them and Catra nods. Carefully, she shifts her hands to stroke along the back of Melog’s head.

“We have to go, but you could come with us. The Queens estate is much safer than this house. It is where Hope used to live,” Catra says to them, softly, as she continues to pet them. Melog stills in her arms and Adora holds her breath. After a moment, Melog nudges their head up, butting up under Catra’s chin almost _hopefully_.

Catra laughs softly, petting over Melog’s ears now. “There aren’t nearly as many trees - rich people _love_ manicured lawns for some reason - but you wouldn’t have to hunt anymore,” she tells them, still petting. Melog mews happily. They _might_ be smiling now – Adora can’t quite tell, but they do seem happy at least. Their ears are up again as they nuzzle beneath Catra’s chin in the same way that Catra often does to her.

“Are they marking you?” Adora asks, curious. Amusement dances in Catra’s eyes as she makes eye contact with Adora over the top of Melog’s head.

“Why, are you jealous, princess?” Catra asks. Adora feels herself blush as Melog pulls back, gaze darting between the two of them. She opens her mouth to protest, but then Melog belly crawls closer and start rubbing under _her_ chin now. Catra cackles at her startled expression.

“They can’t scent mark, they’re just being sweet. I would say it’s a _yes_ ,” Catra clarifies. Melog lets out a small trill in response.

\--

Driving three hours with a large cat in the back seat is an interesting adventure. Melog spends the beginning of the ride hunched down against the bench like they are afraid of looking out the windows – or maybe being seen through them. They eventually get their courage up, and by the end of the ride they are trying to stick their head into the front seat from over the console, but it doesn’t work very well given their size. Catra is grateful when Adora finally pulls up to the security gate at the estate. Despite how hard she knows explaining this is going to be on Adora, the familiar territory eases her, and it seems to relax Adora too, at least if the relieved sigh she releases when they pull into the garage is any indication.

They manage to make their way into the house, Adora carrying their suitcase up to their bedroom and then returning to watch Melog cautiously begin to explore the living room, before Adora’s phone rings. Catra raises a brow at Adora as she pulls it out, and Melog startles and stares at the sound, but Catra is not surprised. The gate guard had not _said_ anything, but it was kind of impossible to miss Melog’s presence in their backseat, especially with their head resting on the center console. The news reached Juliet faster than she thought it would, but she _was_ expecting the call to come eventually.

“Hello, Angella. How has your day been?” Adora answers, as if she has any idea what subtlety is. Melog watches her for another long moment before they return to their slow exploration of the space. Catra listens to Angella sigh down the line.

“How did you go for a vacation and come back half a day early with a cat?” Angella questions. She sounds longsuffering. Catra smiles a little to herself as she crosses the room to wrap her arms around Adora’s waist, hoping to help support her. Adora hums, faux-innocent, while Catra presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Remember when I promised to take the weekend off of the investigation and just spend it with Catra?” Adora asks. There is a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Angella _had_ made Adora promise that, if only so she would totally relax for the weekend and just take care of herself. Angella had clearly been worried about her burning out.

“What does this have to do with a – and I am quoting directly here – _big ass purple cat_?” Angella asks. Hearing Angella swear is bizarre. Adora actually _twitches_ in response, but after a moment she recovers.

“They came from the same place I did,” Adora responds, softly.

\--

Introducing Angella to Melog takes awhile, and explaining everything they learned is hard. Adora all but breaks down in her living room. They were overdue for an emotional couch talk, anyway. Catra comforts her while Angella’s face grows sour as she reads the letter Hope had left. Her expression only grows darker as she looks at the files that Catra fetched from their suitcase.

“I don’t want you looking into this, Adora,” Angella says, quietly. Adora gapes at her. She _can’t_ be serious. Adora finally _knows_. Knows who she is, knows what happened to her parents, knows _why_. All she has to do now is prove it, and track down the people within SWORD directly responsible for ordering the hit. After so long, she knows everything but the person’s name and where Mara’s body is, and Angella wants her to _stop?_

“No,” Adora says, flatly, when she finally recovers from her shock enough to speak again. To her surprise, Catra places a hand lightly over hers and sends her a pleading look – a _hear her out_ look. Adora shoots her an incredulous look

“We will find the people who did this and bring them to justice, Adora, but I don’t want you doing it. You trusted me when it came to dealing with the Horde. Trust me with this,” Angella tells her, looking up from the file spread out on the coffee table. Adora continues to stare. She has been working on this for six years. It wasn’t constant – sometimes she would go weeks without looking at the files – but it was _constantly there_ , hanging over her.

Angella turns to face her fully, glancing between her and Catra. “I’ll hire the best investigators there are. I’ll give them everything you have put together. But Adora, I don’t need you to _say_ it to see how much finding this out has upset you. Solving their murder should not be your burden. Focus on processing, and grieving. That is all a daughter should have to do,” Angella tells her. She looks pained.

Adora hates the idea of just _letting go,_ just turning over everything she has been working on for six years and trusting strangers to take care of it. The authorities never cared for the fifteen years before they knew Hope’s family was rich, and even after they never found much of anything. It feels like nothing will ever happen if she leaves it up to them. She will never find Mara.

But Adora looks into Angella’s eyes, and she sees fear there. She is not afraid for Adora’s life – not at the hands of SWORD, anyway. Angella has seen her at her absolute lowest, and she can see that memory in her eyes now. She can see the fear that Adora will let this consume her again, like when she lost Catra. It is why Angella suggested the lake weekend. She wanted Adora to celebrate her engagement, but she also wanted her to take a step back after spending so much time chasing the new leads on her origin.

Adora looks to Catra. Catra is trying to look neutral, she can tell, but her eyes are a bit hopeful, darting between Angella and Adora. Catra has been there for her, _helped_ her these last few weeks as she redoubled her search efforts. She has been supportive and understanding – but Adora can see she agrees with Angella.

Adora swallows, turning back to Angella, and nods. She doesn’t _want_ to. Letting this go is going to take processing as well, on top of how she is already reconciling her origins, but she knows Angella is _right_. That as hard as it is to let this go, it would be even harder to chase it. She doesn’t have the skills to, anyway. _Finances_ are not going to solve this one. Real investigators, with access to _records_ and _warrants_ , are needed. Reaching that conclusion hurts, but she knows it is true.

It is exhausting and a bit terrifying to let it go like that. The conversation is far from over – they have to work out a lot of logistics, from finding the right investigators, to how they will give them the evidence Adora has found so far, to what they are going to do with Melog. At the end of it, Adora is given one last task in the investigation before she turns it over, but she is far too drained to do it that night. It has to wait until the next day.

After work on Monday evening, she sets to sending over all the files from her six years of investigation. Angella’s team is still being put together, but if Adora is going to relax _at all_ , she has to do the one thing she can now. Catra hovers over her shoulder, clearly trying to be supportive, until Adora assures her she really is fine, she just needs to do this herself. Catra does not look _certain_ , but she says she will be downstairs with Melog and leaves Adora alone in the office.

Melog had been needy when they returned from work. She suspects they were worried about being left alone again. While Adora is busy with her task is the perfect time for Catra to assure them. Adora is uploading files from her third hard drive when she hears a concerning crack, followed shortly by a second one. She frowns, rising from her desk. She makes her way down the stairs, reminding herself that Catra has not raised any kind of alarm, and draws to a halt when she reaches the living room.

The living room windows give her a clear line of sight to the backyard, which Catra is standing in the middle of, her whip in her hand as she wields it, flicking it from side to side and occasionally cracking it. Melog is chasing it, pouncing after the end of it as Catra twirls it around. 

She grins to herself, watching Catra call out playful taunts and encouragement. Melog seems to be having the time of their life, pouncing and chasing the impromptu toy. They keep waving their tail excitedly right before they pounce. They kick up clods of dirt and grass when their paws dig into the lawn, but Adora could not give a shit about the battle damage the backyard will receive.

Catra is grinning, Melog chasing after the whip as she arcs it through the air. Adora has seen her practice with it before, keeping her skills sharp. She always did so with a look of grim determination. She also can’t help but remember the discomfort on Catra’s face when she first talked about the weapon and why she had it.

Catra has used this whip to strangle a man before. Now, she has turned it into a giant cat toy. She lets out an indignant “ _Let go!_ ” when Melog actually succeeds in catching up with the whip. Catra tugs on the whip and Melog lets it go – only to immediately chase it again when Catra cracks it in the opposite direction from them. Adora’s chest feels like it might actually _explode_ watching the exchange.

She reaches down to her left hand, tracing the cool metal of the ring on her finger. She _has_ to learn the lark’s head knot soon.

\--

Adora is, understandably, stressed. She is trying to let things go. Catra is so proud of her for how she is trying, but she just doesn’t know _how_ really. Angella promised her updates from the team, but when it is just being put together that is a little difficult. When work gets out, Adora sets to busying herself with a vengeance. When she isn’t occupying herself with the space between Catra’s thighs, she uses Melog as a distraction.

Some of her diversions are legitimate. They have to figure out the creature they are living with, and that there is very little surviving documentation on. They have to figure out how to cohabitate, and what to _feed_ them even.

So yes, some of it is stuff they legitimately have to do. It is just that some of Adora’s diversions are things like buying a small playscape for hybrid kids and arguing it is the closest thing to a giant cat tower she could find. Catra points out they have nowhere to put it. Adora considers that for a long moment before deciding that no one needs two dining tables, and Melog can just have the formal dining room. Adora isn’t wrong, Catra is not even sure why she _has_ a second dining table since she has never used it, but that doesn’t make her laugh at her any less.

They start walking Melog around the property in the evenings, partially to familiarize them with the estate, partially to get them much-needed exercise, and partially just because it is _nice_ to walk hand-in-hand while the cat runs after whatever catches their attention, eventually returning when they grow tired of it. It is another way to spend time and keep busy, but it is something they all thoroughly enjoy.

Not that Catra _isn’t_ enjoying the amount of sex they are having, but she realizes that they may be getting a little too comfortable when Adora pulls her onto the couch in her office lounge and undoes her shirt buttons with such gusto Catra is not convinced she didn’t _rip_ one. Catra bites her lip to force down her moan at that thought as Adora slips her hands beneath Catra’s button up. Her shirt is still tucked into her suit pants, but it doesn’t seem to bother Adora as she grabs her waist and pulls her close, kissing and nuzzling down her chest.

At least Catra took off her suit jacket before she started her security sweep. She had seen the heated look in Adora’s eyes and knew _something_ was coming, but she was just expecting a de-stress make out on the couch before Adora got back to work. As Adora nudges her shirt wider open so she can kiss Catra’s chest, taking her nipple in her mouth and _sucking_ , it becomes clear that Adora has intentions of far more.

Catra _should_ admonish Adora for her carelessness – if she actually tore the shirt they are kind of _fucked_ – but she can’t find it within herself to care as she throws her head back and suppresses her moans down to gentle gasps when Adora’s tongue flicks against her, teasing. She feels herself roll her hips without ever meaning to, and in response she feels Adora smirk against her chest. As good as it feels, she can’t let things go further in this direction. Barring the _one time_ in the bathroom, she stands by what she said the first time Adora tried to touch her at work. She can’t protect Adora while on bottom.

Catra tangles her hand in Adora’s hair, already down after Catra snatched her ponytail before they even made it into the car that morning. She hid the elastic in Adora’s own waistcoat pocket, knowing Adora would never find it there. Catra grips her hair roughly, pulling Adora’s head back. Adora barely manages to silence her moan as she is yanked back. Catra takes a moment to smirk down at her in victory, sending a _message_ , before she leans down and claims Adora’s mouth for her own.

Catra is not going to _stop_ Adora – at least not from having sex entirely – but she is not going to let Adora fuck her, _distract_ her, in the office. Catra purrs when Adora lets out a soft whine of protest into the kiss, flexing her grip on Catra’s waist as if to indicate what she _wants_. Catra knows, she just isn’t giving it. Catra nips at her bottom lip before she sets back to kissing her, claiming and possessive.

When Catra pulls back, she only does it far enough to whisper in Adora’s ear. “You know the rules when we're in public, Adora. What do you want?” she purrs to her. Adora shudders a little beneath her. It is a crossroads. They could stop now and pick this back up when they get home. _Or_ , they could continue, but with Catra in charge this time. She can smell how turned on Adora is as she whimpers softly. Catra is straddled over her thighs and can feel them tensing as Adora clenches them in response. It is the only answer Catra needs, but she still waits. She wants Adora to _say_ it.

“I want you,” Adora breathes out, her voice dripping with desire. Catra growls, low and possessive, nipping at the spot on Adora’s jaws that drives her a bit wild. Adora gasps, sharp and too _loud_ , and Catra whips her tail around to tap against her side, _reminding_ her.

“If you want me, you have to stay quiet. Be good for me,” Catra reminds her, ducking down now to her neck. She intends to _bite_ it before she remembers for herself that they are at work. She growls at being forced to resist the urge, but she presses a soft kiss there instead. It doesn’t satiate her fangs, but it at least feels a _bit_ better.

Adora does her best not to make a sound at her words, but her breathing picks up speed, and her hands on Catra’s waist spasm beneath her dress shirt. Catra smirks against her skin in her victory, trailing her lips down to kiss against the hollow of Adora’s throat, just barely exposed by her undone top button. Adora rarely wears ties when she does not have formal meetings with clients – Catra _never_ wears a tie unless Adora is – and that gives Catra access to more of her skin without even needing to move them further along.

The smell of Adora’s arousal is only building. Catra has to get her out of these clothes if she doesn’t want her underwear - if not her _suit pants -_ to be ruined before she even touches her. It is late in the afternoon and she doesn’t have any more meetings, but if they want to avoid her clothes still smelling like sex when they leave, she is going to need to get her undressed. Reluctantly, Catra shifts back in her lap, her eyes dragging down Adora’s body before she makes eye contact with her again.

“Undress, princess. Pants and underwear off. Vest too,” Catra orders, before climbing out of her lap. Adora’s hands hold onto her for a moment, but she makes no attempts to actually keep Catra in place. Her pupils dilate a bit at Catra’s words alone before her hands fall to dutifully undo her buttons. Catra watches with hungry eyes as Adora takes off her waistcoat and then undoes her fly, slipping out of her underwear and pants in the same arch of her hips.

Once undressed, her pants and waistcoat loosely folded on the table to keep them from getting creased, Catra lays her back across the couch, kneeling between Adora’s thighs and leaning forward to slowly and teasingly undo her shirt buttons. Adora’s breath only grows quicker as more of her skin is exposed, watching with hungry eyes as Catra eventually shoves the shirt open until it is only hanging loosely from her shoulders, trapped between her back and the couch.

The only clothing left on her really is her sports bra. Catra leans forward to press nips and kiss down her torso, hidden from view, as her fingers make their way to stroke along Adora’s inner thigh. Adora’s breath catches as she strokes closer to where she knows Adora is already wet.

“Be quiet and I’ll take care of you, princess. You’ll be good, won’t you?” Catra asks her, looking up to make eye contact. Adora nods, eager and fast as her breath stutters. Catra purrs in reward before she strokes a hand up and finally touches her. Adora draws in a sharp breath and then lets out a soft whine, unable to hold it back, when she realizes Catra is not really _touching_ her yet.

Catra smirks as she shifts to press a kiss to Adora’s hip. The entire time, her fingers lightly stroke over Adora’s slit, trailing wetness from her center to her clit, but not giving her anywhere near enough pressure to really count as stimulation. She glances up and finds Adora looking down at her with a desperate expression, blushing a little as she squirms pointedly beneath her.

Adora doesn’t usually bottom like this, squirming and silently demanding. She is usually happy to take what Catra gives her, but right now Catra is giving her _nothing_ , not even the words to ask for more. For some reason, that makes Catra grin against her skin as she finally strokes down to rub properly against her entrance. Adora sucks in a sharp breath, shifting her hips a little, seeking _more_.

“Remember what I said, princess. Be good for me,” Catra instructs, right before she presses in with two fingers at once. Adora flushes a dark shade and bites her lip _hard_ to stay silent, her breath puffing heavy as Catra begins to rock her. She keeps it gentle and steady, if only to keep it _quieter_ , but it is enough to have Adora’s teeth digging into her lower lip.

“So good and quiet. That’s my girl. Always so good for me,” Catra praises in a low whisper. Adora _whines_ at that, but at least it is quietly. Catra shushes her as gently as she can. She needs her to be quiet, but she doesn't want Adora to feel like she is _correcting_ her. Adora isn't as sensitive as she is when she bottoms, but Catra still wants to be gentle with her unless it is the _fun_ kind of rough. Adora immediately falls silent, her eyes widening a bit with the realization she made a sound.

Adora shifts her hand up and bites the meat of her own palm, something to cling to and silence her. Catra _grins_ as she shifts back to take her fiancé in, utterly exposed for her. “You're so good you know what you need to stay quiet,” she praises now, her free hand dropping to stroke Adora’s clit as she continues to work her. Adora’s eyes flutter closed, her head tilting back, but she digs her teeth in and makes no sound.

The sight of Adora like this is almost intoxicating. Catra is able to keep the volume of her own words low and that is _it_. She praises her for every moment she is silent, for every desperate twitch she gives before lying back and letting Catra take her how she wants. Her breathing is ragged and desperate, her flush spilling down her chest, but she lies back and stays completely silent as Catra works her over.

When Adora comes, it is almost like falling asleep. Her jaw clenches to bite down on any sound, but peace slowly leaks into her body, her limbs going lax even as her walls tighten around Catra’s fingers. Catra praises her, tells her she loves her and how _good_ she feels, even as she brings Adora over. They are in the middle of work and she never wants to stop touching her – she _tells_ her that and Adora gives a twitch. It could be an aftershock, but Catra is going to place it firmly under _reaction_.

She ends up cuddled against Adora’s chest afterwards. Her own shirt is still open, and Adora trails her hands idly through the fluff on her chest as they lay together, Catra softly purring in satisfaction.

“You know you have to get back to work eventually,” Catra points out, even as she nuzzles in against Adora’s neck. Adora makes a noise of appropriate disgust.

\--

Adora has been doing a lot of things to busy herself, but on Thursday Glimmer falls into her lap as a distraction of her own league. Catra is perched on the edge of her desk, being an absolute _shit_ , flicking her tail across Adora’s keyboard as she tries to type and smacking her mouse aside, when she suddenly stiffens. Her ears twitch and she turns to look at the door as _someone_ tries to open it and continue inside on their barreling path, but they are stopped by the lock.

“Catra, open this right now!” Glimmer huffs from the other side of the door. Her voice has a manic edge to it. Adora raises her brow at the door as Catra slips down from her perch and approaches the door with an air of trepidation. She unlocks it, pulling it open and causing Glimmer to trip a little when the surface she was leaning against is suddenly pulled away.

Glimmer is, maybe, panicking. She certainly doesn’t look calm as she hurries into the room and around the edge of Adora’s desk. Adora swivels her chair towards her, opening her mouth to ask what is going on, but she doesn’t get the chance. Catra has barely closed and re-locked the door before Glimmer is taking Adora’s face in her hands and staring down at her balefully.

“ _I kissed Bow_ ,” she hisses. There is an edge of horror to her voice. It comes out closer to a squeak than words. Adora blinks up at her sister.

“Good?” she responds. Clearly Glimmer is panicking, but she can’t imagine Bow reacted _poorly_ to that. Catra snorts as she approaches to perch on the edge of the desk again. Glimmer makes a semi-wounded sound, still staring down at Adora.

“No, not good. He was leaving to go help Juliet, and I wasn’t thinking, and I just- kissed him goodbye. And he was shocked because _why wouldn’t he be_ and I panicked and shoved him out of the room, telling him he was going to be late. And then I had to take a call and _I’ve been dying for the last thirty minutes, Adora_ ,” Glimmer hisses to her. At least she lets go of Adora’s face to gesture wildly with her hands. Adora continues to just stare up at Glimmer, taller for once only by the virtue of standing, as Catra begins to cackle in the background.

Glimmer is bright red, looking to Catra to hiss at her to _stop it, this isn’t funny_ even though it is kind of _hilarious_. Glimmer has been thinking about this for so long she didn’t even mean to do it, she just fucked up and kissed him goodbye like she has probably done in her head a hundred times.

“Glimmer, I can’t believe you called _me_ a lesbian disaster. At least I meant to do it when I told Catra I loved her,” Adora finally says, staring at her _extremely_ flustered cousin. Glimmer groans, looking to her with a desperate expression.

“I came here for help, not to be _mocked_ ,” she complains. Adora raises a brow at her as, in the background, Catra practically chokes on her laughter.

“One, I’m your cousin and making fun of you is my job, and two, you cannot be helped,” Adora tells her. Glimmer groans, dramatic and annoyed as she looks up to the ceiling.

“So was it with tongue, or…” Catra asks behind her. Adora snorts, turning to reply, and completely stops when she sees Catra’s wicked grin and the fact she has a hand raised to her earpiece. Glimmer makes an indignant and horrified noise not dissimilar to moose being stabbed inside a wind tunnel. It certainly isn’t _humanoid._ Catra cackles again, either at Bow’s reply or Glimmer’s _everything_ as she turns bright red.

Adora holds out her arm to catch her cousin and hold her back before she can lunge at Catra. She still tries, but Adora holds her off as Catra twists away from the desk, dancing over to the lounge and settling cross-legged on the coffee table, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Then _tell her that_. Christ, Bow, why do you both have to be the most difficult people about this. Find out what she tastes like already. Wait, I know the answer, it’s _glitter_ ,” Catra says, definitely to Bow this time.

“I’m going to kill you,” Glimmer threatens in an enraged hiss from Adora’s arms. Her tone of voice really sounds like she means it. Adora snorts as Catra’s grin widens, slow and _lazy_ in her amusement.

“Juliet, I swear, the status hasn’t changed _yet_ , but if it doesn’t by this evening I’m locking them in a room together naked until it sorts itself out,” Catra hums for a brief pause, “I have my ways,” Catra replies to an unheard question. Glimmer is bright red still, turning to look down at Adora, who has not taken the risk of letting her go yet.

“You’re getting a divorce,” she tells her. Adora raises a brow at her.

“We’re not even married yet. And unfortunately for you, this is one of the things I fell in love with her for,” Adora tells her. From the other side of the room, Catra purrs, her tail flicking happily.

“Aw, babe, I love you too,” she practically coos. Glimmer _almost_ shrieks.

\--

On Friday, Glimmer and Bow are in Adora’s office already when they arrive at work, on one of Glimmer’s morning responsibility-avoidance tours. Glimmer is a little flushed just at the fact they are _holding hands_. Catra raises a brow at them as Adora settles at her desk.

“You haven’t kissed again, have you?” she asks. Glimmer flushes _more_ and Bow doesn’t look much less embarrassed.

“We’re taking things slow,” Bow says, probably just to keep Glimmer from launching into another fit of indignant squawking. Catra snorts, perching on the edge of Adora’s desk and pointedly trailing her fingertips down Adora’s arm. She watches the delightful flush the touch earns her as Adora’s eyes track the movement until she reaches her hand and intertwines their fingers.

“Congratulations, at this rate you will get to have sex by the time you are on your deathbed,” Catra tells them, a smile of amusement curling at the edge of her lips. She and Adora exchange twin looks of fond amusement as Glimmer sputters in the background and Bow looks thoroughly flustered. He is so _obvious_ , Catra has no clue how it took them this long. Glimmer at least knows how to lie, but Bow is an open book.

He wouldn’t last _two minutes_ in espionage, but she supposes he is, at his heart, just the son of historians. She forgets, with the criminal background that she and Juliet share, along with some of the other security staff, that Bow is just a regular kid who happened to befriend the richest kid in the world at a gallery opening. At least he finally got his shit together after Glimmer fucked up _spectacularly_.

“We aren’t here to talk about our relationship,” Glimmer huffs, clearly trying to steer the conversation back in a direction she feels in control of. Catra raises her brow at her.

“The day after we got engaged, you came in here and mocked us for thirty minutes,” she points out. This is _payback_. It had all been good-natured teasing, even if every now and then a little bit of melancholy had slipped in. Catra highly suspects their engagement is what accidentally prompted all this. It got Glimmer _thinking_ , and then she thought a little too much and forgot where the line was. Glimmer sulks on the couch.

“How’s your new pet doing?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at Catra. She is daring her to steer the conversation back to their ridiculous relationship, but Catra is a little too busy thinking about the word _pet_. It isn’t a right fit, even if it does just feel like living with a giant cat. _Roommate_ does not make any sense though, and at that point Catra runs out of vocabulary that feels even vaguely relevant.

“Melog is still getting used to the house. The security cameras show they spend most of the day up in their room. I don’t think they like seeing the house empty when we aren’t home,” Adora tells her, shrugging. Glimmer raises an eyebrow at her, glancing between her and Catra like she expects Catra to add anything. She could agree with Adora - she _does_ \- but she is still adamant she doesn’t speak cat and she doesn’t want to encourage the notion.

“Adora, you have an extinct creature sleeping in your guest bed and that is the best insight you have?” Glimmer questions, incredulous. Adora stares at her for a long moment while Catra suppresses the urge to laugh. Bow at least seems perfectly accepting of Adora’s response, just nodding along when she gave it.

“They seem to have the same diet as Catra, and if we don’t get up the second our alarm goes off, they start pawing at the door and mewing,” Adora returns. Glimmer actually drops her head into her hands while Catra cackles. Despite how she likes Melog, there is no way in hell she is letting them into their bedroom. She is not taking a risk while Adora is sleeping, and not when she wants them free to do other _things_ in there before or after they sleep.

Glimmer tries to needle more out of them about Melog, but there isn’t much more for her to uncover. She has met them once, briefly on Sunday evening when they popped into family dinner only long enough to wolf down some food and then return home and collapse from exhaustion, but it certainly wasn’t long enough to really feel them out.

There isn’t much more to _feel_ though. When they return home from work that night, Melog comes bounding up to them, mewing happily and shoving their head into their hands, just like they had done every day since they found them. Catra pets Melog and tells them about their day as Adora takes off her shoes and puts away her keys. They both go change into loungewear, and then head back downstairs and spend some time with the cat.

They are both still trying to figure Melog out, but the cat seems happy with them. Melog is smart, and capable, and Catra _knows_ they can open doors, she has personally watched them do it, but at their core they are a _cat_. Melog opens doors to let themself in and out during the day when they are home alone, but once Adora and Catra come home from work, they suddenly lose the ability, mewing to be let in and out. Catra doesn’t know if they are being polite and asking permission, or if they are just being a _cat_ and demanding attention. They found Melog when the creature couldn’t resist the urge to climb into their suitcase, after all. It isn’t a stretch.

On Saturday, Adora gets her first substantial update from Angella’s investigators. They have found proof of Mara’s internship – her _second_ internship – senior year with Scientific World Organization, assigned to one of their Research in DNA labs. It is the first building block of proving what happened – they haven’t even proved she was hired on right after graduation for those few short weeks before they ran, yet - but it is _progress_ , and she sees Adora breathe easier even as she turns to Melog and asks if they want to visit Hope.

Melog mews, low and sad, but it is a yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel weird referring to Hope as Adora's "DNA father", but when it is specifically in the context of Adora's DNA, it is the only thing that makes sense. Hope is Adora's mom, but she contributed Adora's paternal side of her DNA.  
> If my collie can figure out how to open doors with her mouth then so can Melog.


	21. ACT II: Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's been feeling off for a day or two. She should have known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. The Chapter. Y’all are going to love me or hate me for this but it’s happened either way. Consent is sexy and that's what I have to say on that.

Catra wakes on Monday morning feeling off. It isn’t shocking – she was feeling sluggish and a bit warm last night, almost dehydrated despite how she had been drinking plenty. She had been worried about getting sick and what the hell they were going to do about protecting Adora if that was the case, but she was hoping it would pass and she would wake up in the morning feeling better.

She doesn’t feel like she did last night, at least. Still a bit dehydrated, and definitely warm, but the sluggish feeling is gone. She should drink, actually. They usually keep a glass of water on their nightstand, but Adora had been insistent she have a full one when Catra told her she was feeling off. Catra opens her eyes, blinking into the soft morning light streaming through the windows. It hurts her eyes an inordinate amount.

She is lying on her side, curled into Adora’s chest and facing away from the nightstand. She _should_ get water, but this feels so nice she isn’t inclined to move. She breathes deep, letting Adora’s scent fill her lungs. It washes over her like a wave of comfort, causing her to wriggle closer and nuzzle under her chin. Adora makes a soft noise in her sleep, and Catra feels a twitch between her legs.

She realizes she is wet at the same moment she finally figures out what is going on. She groans to herself, tucking her face deeper in against Adora. She smells really nice, and that should have been to the tip off she needed that this wasn’t a _sickness_ , just her body gearing up for hell week. This is only her second time experiencing this, and she isn’t sure if it is going to be better or _worse_ with Adora around.

On one hand, Adora can help her out. When she had her first one last fall, all it took was getting off two or three times a day and avoiding anything overstimulating. Bright lights, loud sounds, and _especially_ strangers scents. It was hard, given she was _working_ , but her human client didn’t seem to notice anything beyond her increased grouchiness.

On the other hand, having Adora around definitely is not going to _help_ her libido as it goes into overdrive for a few days. At least her presence will be comforting, even if her scent already isn’t helping Catra to calm down right now. She manages to roll over and take her drink, and then she turns to nudge back into Adora’s sleep-slack embrace.

\--

Adora wakes up when Catra rubs her cheek along her jaw with such force that it pushes her off her side and onto her back. She blinks up at the ceiling, trying to get her bearings, as her fiancé purrs like an engine against her throat. Catra shifts to straddle her hips, still purring as she drapes across her chest and marks along Adora’s face happily. Her tail is waving, excited as she absently rolls her hips.

Okay, so definitely turned on then. Adora is still waking up and playing catchup, but she manages to command her hands to raise and drop them to Catra’s hips. Catra lets out a soft sigh against her jaw at just being _touched_.

“Hold me,” she orders, a bit reluctantly, like she is embarrassed. She is already plastered against Adora, her hands clutching at Adora’s shoulders. Still, Adora dutifully wraps her arms around Catra’s back and pulls her close against her chest. Catra’s sigh is _relieved_ as she buries her face in Adora’s neck. Adora is not about to deny her when she asks for assurance or affection – she actually isn’t sure which this is, just that Catra needs it right now.

“My heat started,” Catra mumbles against her throat. Adora blinks rapidly at the ceiling. Okay, _news_. She wasn’t sure if Catra was even having them yet. Despite being overdue by now, they don’t happen when under stress, which Catra _definitely_ has been for pretty much her entire life. Adora takes a quick stock of what little she remembers from her high school health class. Actually, she remembers more from the sexual assault prevention course she took in college.

There are a lot of _assumptions_ about heats and consent – about how it makes anyone having one just constantly want sex. Adora knows, at a surface level, it isn’t _that_ different from her periods. A week of overactive libido and hormones, plus general grouchiness. Honestly, it might be hard to tell the difference with Catra. She also knows that Catra is sensitive at the best of times, and this _definitely_ isn’t going to help.

“Do you want me to work from home today?” she settles on asking, raising one hand to pet down Catra’s back while she keeps the other firmly in place to hold her close. Catra _trills_ , and then hisses, seemingly in reaction to her own response.

“Do you stay home for your periods? If you can– you know, _take care of me_ before work, it should keep me calm until this evening," she almost _mutters_ the words, clearly reluctant to say them, “My senses are just going to be in overdrive. It sucks, but I’ll be fine,” Catra grumbles against her neck. She sounds embarrassed. Adora frowns to herself, raising the hand that was petting her back to squeeze at the back of her neck instead. Catra sighs, but she shifts down to lay her head on Adora’s chest so she can look up at her and make eye contact.

Catra’s pupils are dilated, and her cheeks are a bit flushed, but aside from being visibly turned on, she seems fine. Adora recalls how she had been worried about her being sick last night. No, it was just the build up to _this_. She bites her lip, considering her fiancé.

“You’ve had one before?” she asks, because Catra’s complaints didn’t sound _theoretical_. Catra nods against her chest, and then seems to realize that rubs her cheek against Adora’s tits and sets to marking them. Her tail is waving again. Adora blushes, knowing _if_ she goes into work she is going to smell just as strongly of Catra’s heat as she does.

“My first was nine months ago. My senses run on high alert and I get extra horny. And needy too, apparently. I don’t know, last time I didn’t have anyone I trusted near me, but now I just kind of want you to hold me. Also fuck me through the mattress, but-“ Catra cuts off with a grin at the way Adora flushes at that. She rolls her eyes, trying to cut her fluster _a bit_ , but she doesn’t think she is that successful.

“I would really rather work from home today. I’ll go back in tomorrow, but I’d prefer to get you settled if I can. We would be late if we had to drive in after having sex anyway,” Adora tells her. Catra’s purr rumbles louder, and then she grumbles to herself at her own reaction. Adora knows she is going to protest more. “I _have_ actually stayed home because of my period before. Cramping was absolutely killing me, and the anemia was bad enough I was worried about passing out. Time off for heats is just part of company policy, Catra,” Adora tells her.

Catra is silent for a long moment. Well, silent except for her constant, low level purr as she tucks her face down into Adora’s chest to think. It makes her tail lash a bit faster, and her purr rise in volume, but Adora just waits as she thinks it over, carefully petting down Catra’s back. Catra squirms a little against her, rolling her hips again with the movement, though it seems more _purposeful_ this time.

“Melog would love it if I worked from home, anyway. You know how they hate it when we leave,” Adora adds. Maybe adding something that isn’t for Catra will let her pride crumble enough that she is willing to let Adora stay. As much as Adora wants to do this for her sake, she also doesn’t _particularly_ want other people around Catra when she is like this. She knows she doesn’t have to protect her – Catra’s whole job is defending _Adora_ after all – but she doesn’t want her to have to deal with anyone else.

Between potential unsavory comments and how Adora can already tell Catra is going to hate stranger’s scents for the next week, she would much rather just keep Catra to herself. Catra sighs against her chest, burying her face in a little deeper.

“Fine. But you _are_ going in tomorrow. It will just be today – to get used to it again, and everything,” Catra mutters. Adora releases a sigh of relief, tightening her arms around Catra’s back.

“Thank you. I just want to take care of you, okay?” she tells her. Catra’s tail whips at her words.

“I can think of a _certain_ way you can take care of me right now,” she points out. Adora laughs, but she slides her hands down to Catra’s hips.

“Gladly,” she tells her.

\--

Catra is purring. She doesn’t _usually_ fully purr during sex, but she can’t help it. She sighs softly against Adora’s neck as Adora works her, purring in absolute contentment.

“Love you,” she mumbles, because she feels so _warm_ , and it isn’t just her heat affecting her now. Now, this is stemming straight from Adora’s strong arm around her back, her fingers working over her clit in steady motions, touch extra gentle to accommodate Catra’s sudden sensitivity, and her lips pressing kisses against the base of her ears.

“I love you too. I’ve got you. It’s okay,” Adora promises her. Catra mewls, shifting as if to press closer even though she _can’t_. She thinks, on any other day, she might be embarrassed by how quickly she fell apart beneath Adora’s touch, but today it is in the only thing she wants. She whimpers, shifting her hips, trying to bring Adora’s fingers closer to her center. As good as Adora’s touch is against her clit, her body kind of wants _one thing_ right now.

“Please, your fingers- I need-“ she pants out, cutting off with a soft groan when Adora traces her touch down, ghosting over her folds until she is lightly stroking over where Catra wants her. She moans, parting her lips against Adora’s shoulder so she can bite her if only to _hang on_. Adora gasps as Catra sinks her teeth in, shuddering a little beneath her.

“You’re so wet for me,” Adora marvels, a bit breathless, as she finally pushes in. Catra keens even with her fangs digging into Adora’s shoulder, immediately shifting her hips to get _more_. Adora lets out a soft breath, pulling back to add a second finger and start to properly work her. Catra _mewls_ this time when Adora crooks her fingers and hits the spot that drives her crazy on an _average_ day.

Adora has barely started, but Catra is also worked up beyond belief. Just getting them naked drove her wild. She digs her teeth in as she disentangles a hand from wrapping around Adora’s back to work her own clit. She _needs_ it, needs that stimulation, but the idea of the arm Adora still has tightly wrapped around her _leaving_ , even if it is to touch her, is absolutely unacceptable.

“That’s it. You’re safe. Just relax,” Adora tells her, pressing another kiss against her temple. Catra moans, picking up the pace of her hand. Adora feels it – of course she does, they are plastered together – and she increases the speed of her thrusts to match. Catra feels the heat clawing up from between her legs, spreading throughout her body as her muscles tense and she shakes against Adora, the bite on her shoulder flexing as she clings on for dear life, whimpering and _writhing_ onto Adora’s fingers.

She sees stars and blames it firmly on her heat. When she is capable of _processing_ again, the heat that has been overtaking her finally retreated a bit, she slowly releases Adora’s neck, licking against the spot weakly in apology. Dark bruises are already blooming in the spot, and Catra doubts any concealer is going to cover them up. She would feel bad if Adora didn’t moan as she licks over them, shuddering a little herself. At least they are at the join of her neck and shoulder, where they can be hidden by Adora’s dress shirts when she _does_ go to work.

Because she isn’t today. Catra purrs, wrapping both her arms around Adora’s back and kneading against her absently as she rolls her hips down onto Adora’s fingers. Adora has stilled her movement, _about_ to pull out, but that is utterly unacceptable. Catra isn’t _done_ yet, even if the fire has cooled. She presses forward, presses _closer_ until Adora is forced to roll onto her back. She rolls her hips again, moaning and purring as she works herself down onto Adora’s fingers. Below her, Adora releases a soft noise, something happy and _adjacent_ to a coo, but not quite there.

“Not done yet? You need more?” she asks, voice breathy, running the hand that is wrapped around Catra soothingly down her back. Catra’s purr is buzzing in her throat, but she nods shakily against Adora’s neck as she sets to rocking her hips down so she can ride Adora's fingers.

“Ah- Adora, you feel so good,” she manages, working her hips down. Adora lets out a soft moan at the praise, shifting her hand a little to better position it for what Catra is doing, what Catra is _taking_. Catra moans as she works herself down, shuddering from how _good_ it feels, intensified by her last orgasm. She doesn’t want it to ever _stop_.

“You always – ah – make me feel so good, _fuck me_ so good,” Catra praises as she fucks herself down onto Adora’s fingers, quivering a little from how _close_ she feels again, even without stimulation to her clit. Adora’s hips twitch beneath her, the smell of her arousal almost as strong as Catra’s. Catra is _still purring_. “It feels so good, the way you fuck me. The-“ she cuts off to _keen_ as Adora shifts the angle of her fingers, and now Catra is beyond words. She drives her hips down desperately, _so close_ , but she won’t get there without another touch.

Adora knows it too. The hand from around her back slips down to meet her. They are still plastered together, Catra’s arms clutching Adora close, and when Adora’s fingers work over her clit it is all she needs to see stars _again_ , crying out as she works her hips down. The heat washes over her, leaving her panting and quivering in its wake as it retreats. She feels spent and _content_ , her purr rising loudly in her throat.

Adora slides her hands away, wrapping her arms around Catra and pulling her close as she feels peace spread through her, that burning desire finally satiated. The aftershocks make her quiver a little as she buries her face in against Adora’s neck. Her purr isn’t _usually_ this loud, but sue her, her hormones are going wild and Adora feels amazing against her.

“So good,” she mumbles, nudging deeper into Adora’s scent. Adora lets out a soft noise, not quite a moan and not quite a happy hum, caught in the middle as Catra nuzzles against her. Catra’s arms are still wrapped around her, holding her in close against her. Adora is turned on, close herself, but Catra can’t bring herself to _let go_. She wants to be pressed in as close to her as she can.

Catra presses a kiss to her neck as she shifts her legs, sliding one thigh between Adora’s. Adora instantly moans, jerking her hips to grind against Catra. It only takes a few moments, Catra snuggling in tight against her as Adora jerks her hips and moans, finally spilling over to join Catra in contented bliss.

Adora is sweaty, panting as she works through it, but Catra doesn’t care. She continues to purr as she holds her fiancé close, and Adora holds her back.

This heat is _definitely_ going to be better than the last one.

\--

Adora hasn’t thought about Catra’s heat since they were in sex ed together in high school. That had been an interesting class to fight through, especially given how their school was eighty percent human and thus a little _biased_ in their focus. Their description of heat sure as hell hadn’t been accurate. They had warned about not being able to control oneself, too overtaken by desire, but they had also said the same thing about all teenage boys.

Catra’s heat is not anything like what Adora was expecting. After their morning together, Adora ends up working on her laptop from the living room couch, Catra curled against her side. Now she has gotten off, Catra just seems generally _needy_. She is embarrassed by it, but she blatantly seeks affection and Adora is more than happy to give it. When she doesn’t have to type, she works with her left arm wrapped around Catra as she scrolls.

Catra purrs whenever Adora pets her hands over her, absently nudging in against her side. Catra alternates between petting Melog when they come over for attention and dozing as Adora works. Melog stays close, though they don’t shove their head into either of their laps or hands like they usually do when they want attention. Adora is not sure how much they understand of what is going on. Melog never came pawing at their door that morning, but they generally make themselves scarce when she and Catra are having sex.

According to Catra, Melog doesn’t scent like she does, at that is about all they know. Melog might not be able to pick up on Catra’s heat with their senses, but Adora told them that they would be staying in today because Catra wasn’t feeling well while Catra was brushing her teeth. Adora also told them to give Catra space, because she wasn’t sure how well Catra would handle it if Melog intruded right now. Luckily, Catra seems unbothered by Melog's presence.

Outside of when they were getting ready in the bathroom that morning – and Adora was having her talk with their cat-slash-roommate – Catra has been in constant contact with her, rubbing against her shoulder, wrapping around her waist, or curled into her side. She just really needs to be held, apparently.

A little after lunch, Adora gets a phone call from Glimmer. Adora groans when she sees the contact, well aware the meeting she and Glimmer were _supposed_ to have been in together just got out. Adora emailed why she wouldn’t be in today that morning, and she texted Juliet, but she doesn’t doubt the news had not made it to Glimmer until she noticed Adora’s absence.

“Did you seriously take the day off work to stay home and have sex all day?” Glimmer asks without greeting when Adora answers the call. Catra hisses at her side, her ears pinning back, at the same time that Adora scowls.

“ _No_ , and that’s offensive. Catra just doesn’t feel great. I didn’t want her to have to deal with any insinuations like _that_ today,” Adora grumbles, glaring at her laptop screen. There is a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, okay, sorry. I don’t know that much about it, just what you see on TV, you know? I just assumed, given your track record,” Glimmer apologizes, a bit sheepishly. Catra growls, but her ears aren’t pinned back anymore, and she buries her face into Adora’s side. Adora drops a hand into her mane, carefully threading her fingers through it until she can scratch at Catra’s scalp.

The growl is _gone_ , replaced by a thunderous purr as Catra goes utterly limp on the couch cushion beside her. Adora is not certain if Glimmer could hear the hiss or growl, but she definitely hears the roaring purr, because she lets out a low whistle.

“What _are_ you doing?” she asks, genuinely curious now. Catra _tries_ to growl, Adora can tell by the way her purr turns raspy, but she doesn’t stop her affections and after a moment Catra gives up the fight, just soaking in the touch as her chest rumbles.

“Scratching behind her ears. She likes that. What do you need, Glimmer?” Adora returns, rolling her eyes as she tucks the phone between her ear and shoulder so she can have at least _one_ free hand to return to her work.

“I’m supposed to fill you in on the meeting,” Glimmer tells her. Adora groans, causing Catra to snicker where she is still curled limply against her side. “What, did you think you were going to escape it?” Glimmer questions, sounding amused by Adora’s disappointment.

“It wasn’t part of my motivation until now, but I was _hoping_ ,” she returns. Whatever. Having Glimmer recap the meeting over phone isn’t as bad as actually having to go to the meeting.

At least she _thinks_ that until she is forced to untangle her hand from Catra’s hair to pull something up on her laptop, and Catra immediately snatches her hand back, nipping at her fingers as if in _punishment_ before she sucks them into her mouth. She makes heated eye contact with Adora as she hollows her cheeks and licks down their length, bobbing her head to suck them in and out of her mouth. Adora’s throat suddenly feels _very_ dry. She struggles to swallow for a minute as she watches Catra's show, but realizes it is useless when Catra flutters her eyes closed and sinks forward on her fingers until she has them fully engulfed between her lips, the cool metal of Adora's engagement ring pressing against her cheek causing her to shudder.

“Glimmer, I think I’ve got it. I’ll call you back if I need further details,” Adora tells her, hanging up before Glimmer can even protest. Amusement dances in Catra’s eyes as she shifts backwards, slowly dragging Adora’s fingers out of her mouth before her hand finally falls away limply. Catra’s cheeks are flushed as she grins at Adora, her tail waving in the air behind her.

“Round three?” she asks, playful desire dancing in her eyes. Adora just nods, a bit stupefied. Thank god Melog wandered off again twenty minutes ago to give them space.

Catra _pounces_.

\--

Catra is really glad she decided _clothes_ weren’t on the docket for today. Adora is in a loungewear set, but Catra is only wearing a lacy bralette on her top to give Adora plenty of access to pet along her sides. She didn’t bother with underwear, knowing it would likely be ruined before Adora even finished her work, and it is all too easy to shove aside her loose shorts and lay back on the couch, Adora fucking her gently and streaming those compliments of _soft_ and _beautiful_ that completely undo Catra.

She comes in minutes. It would be embarrassing if Adora didn’t _keep going_ , bringing her over a second time until Catra is mewling and crying out. Adora holds her through it, picking her up and cradling her in her lap, pressing kisses along the side of Catra’s face as she lets her eyes flutter closed and her purr rumble loudly between them. It occurs to Catra that Adora _might_ be under the delusion she needs to come twice to be satisfied right now, but she also is not inclined to _correct_ her.

She purrs and snuggles against Adora’s chest, all too content to be held as Adora returns to her work. It is probably more difficult with a magicat in her lap, but Adora is humming softly to herself and dropping kisses into her hair occasionally, so she doesn’t seem to _mind_. She doesn’t seem to mind any of this, actually, unphased in the face of Catra’s blatant neediness.

Not that Catra thought Adora wouldn’t be understanding, but even she is embarrassed by how desperate she is to be in contact with Adora and scent her. Adora just finds ways to do her work around Catra until the day is up, and then she whisks Catra upstairs to cuddle in their bed. It is safe, and theirs, and it _smells_ like it. It is the exact thing she needs. Adora only leaves her side to fetch her more water, because _fuck her_ is staying hydrated difficult right now.

This heat is _different_ from her last. For her last heat, she was definitely turned on, but she was mostly just _frustrated_ and grouchy. Whenever someone looked at her, much less _talked_ to her, all she wanted to do was hiss and snarl until they went away. She didn’t want to be around anybody, and every foreign scent made her wrinkle her nose. Now, she rearranges their blankets into a cocoon and wraps around Adora, burying her noise in against her pulse point and feeling her entire body relax at the contact and scent.

\--

Adora wakes on Tuesday to Catra once again rubbing against her and purring like an engine. Adora tries to convince her she _really_ doesn’t have to go in today, and that it isn’t a big deal, but Catra has already reset their alarm to go off earlier so they have time to _take care of things_ before they go in to the office. Adora just has to trust that Catra will tell her if it really turns out to be a problem.

She is still nervous when they get to the office. She tries to put her arm around Catra in the executive elevator as they take it up and Catra starts to purr before she cuts herself off with a hiss and twists away.

“You can’t touch me outside of your office. I want it, but the hormones aren’t _great_ for staying focused,” Catra tells her, practically sulking in the corner of the elevator. Her ears are down as she talks. Adora frowns, but she nods. All morning, Catra has hardly broke physical contact, and she was the same way yesterday, but if it is going to make her job harder than Adora will pull back.

She hates the space it puts between them. Catra is visibly twitchy whenever they leave her office. Her paranoia is higher than usual, her senses on high alert and nerves a bit frayed as a result, and Adora watches her suppress a flinch when the presenter starts talking in her first meeting. She is grateful when the meeting gets out and they can return to her office.

“Did you see the way that canidae was looking at me? Sending looks and scenting for the whole meeting as if I don’t already _clearly_ have someone,” Catra grumbles when they get back to her office, climbing into her lap once she has finished her security sweep and rubbing beneath Adora’s chin. Adora frowns to herself. She _hadn’t_ noticed, actually, because after she leveled the entire room with a glare upon entering, she had been focused on trying to pay attention to the meeting while keeping an eye on Catra’s state.

“That is targeted harassment, Catra. I’m not abiding by it,” she says, already pulling up her email. Catra sighs against her neck. She sounds annoyed and tired. Adora is _not letting this go_. Not if it happened to any of her employees, and certainly not after it happened to Catra. Unfortunately, she was too worried to notice, and there were two canidae hybrids in the meeting. "The lycan or the vulpes?" she asks as she starts an email draft.

“It was the lycan. I didn't catch his name, and I’m not testifying on shit. Looks and preening aren’t legally harassment anyway,” Catra returns. _Preening_. If Adora doesn’t fire him, she is going to strangle him with her bare hands. She was so worried about how irritated Catra seemed, she didn't look around to see if it had a specific cause beyond just being in public, and Catra had to sit through that attention for an _hour_.

“They are under company policy. Anything that creates a hostile environment. If he’s doing it to my bodyguard and _fiancé_ , do you think he’s leaving the other hybrids in his department alone? I’m firing him. You won't have to do anything except _maybe_ sign a form. We make it as easy as the law allows,” Adora assures her, running a hand down her back. Catra huffs, but she doesn’t say anything more. Adora bites her lip. "Okay?" she asks, because she _is_ finding a reason to fire this asshole, but she also does not want to make Catra uncomfortable.

"Okay," Catra agrees, sounding a bit fond. Adora lets out a breath of relief and hits _send_ on an email of barely-restrained seething to the HR department. Despite Catra's initial protests, Adora’s silent fury – well, silent except for the loud strikes of her fingers against her keyboard – seems to please Catra. She purrs and nuzzles beneath Adora’s chin, marking her face for what must be the twentieth time that morning. Adora isn’t bothered. She happily tilts her chin back to give Catra better access as she just focuses on _breathing_ for a minute to calm herself.

If she _had_ noticed in the middle of the meeting, it would have been a tie between firing him on the spot or starting a fight right then. This is why she wanted to stay _home_. Humans and most fae would not be able to tell – hell, even some hybrids can’t – but Catra shouldn’t have to put up with this bullshit. She is already dealing with enough physically, she doesn’t need people being _presumptuous_ on top of it.

“Down, girl. He didn’t actually _do_ anything and you sent your email. I can handle myself, princess,” Catra reminds her, voice amused and soothing. Adora takes a deep breath, pulling back a little to look down at Catra. Catra is actually smiling, expression fond despite the way her eyes are dilated. Adora pauses.

“Do you need-“ she starts, but cuts off when Catra flushes a _delightful_ shade and trills. Her ears twitch, embarrassment _evident_ as her gaze darts away.

“Not at work. I can’t protect you like that normally, but especially not with how it affects me right now. It’s just hot, seeing you go to bat for me,” Catra tells her, shrugging and fixing her gaze carefully out the windows. Adora actually smiles at that, leaning down to press a kiss to Catra’s cheek that has her immediately purring and turning her head to rub a mark against Adora. The vibrations make her face buzz a little, causing her to giggle, but she holds still for her.

“You have real work to do,” Catra reminds when she pulls back, dropping her head onto Adora’s shoulder. Adora looks down at her for a long moment, gaze searching, but Catra really does seem more relaxed. She had been tense and stressed for the whole meeting, her gaze flicking about the room and her ears swiveling an inordinate amount, but now they are alone again she seems to be content in Adora’s arms.

Adora nods, rearranging Catra in her lap a little bit, both so she can better work around her and to send the message she doesn’t want her to _leave_ , before she sets her attention back to her screen. She frowns when she sees an email from Angella, calling her up to a meeting in twenty minutes. She sucks in a breath when she reads _why_.

The investigation team has found something – and Angella is calling a meeting between her, Glimmer, and _upper level security_ in response. That means it is something _big_. They haven’t had a meeting between all of them called since Hope’s body was recovered. Suddenly, having Catra in her lap is a necessary weight to keep her from fidgeting and shifting in her seat as she waits for the meeting to arrive.

The team found proof of Mara’s employment and assignment to the She-ra project, though they had not yet found evidence admissible in court of what the She-ra project _was_. The stolen documents could easily be discredited, but they were leading the investigation to look in the right places to _get_ the evidence that they needed. Adora’s mind buzzes with what they could have found. If they had just found evidence to prove the She-ra project, she doesn’t think it would be meeting worthy. The meeting leads her to believe they might have found evidence of the hit, perhaps even who ordered it.

Scientific World Organization shut down its DNA research program two decades ago. After all, the entire culmination of their work walked out the door. Their funding had been wasted, and getting more to be approved would have been a miracle. But SWO still exists, and even if the person in charge of all this no longer works there, they are _somewhere_.

Adora’s mind is spinning with the possibilities, but she still looks to Catra apologetically as they get in the executive elevator. “I’m sorry to add another meeting to the list today,” she tells her, softly. Catra blinks at her for a moment before blushing and looking away, her ears pinning back.

“Adora, let yourself be happy they found something. It’s only going to be your family, anyway. It won't bother me,” Catra scoffs, dismissive despite her blush. She _likes_ to be worried about, Adora knows, even if she is trying to pretend otherwise. Adora bites her lip, but she nods. She is worried about what was found, and it is easier to direct her worry to concern for Catra than spiral over the possibilities of what has been found, but she doesn't want to smother her.

The elevator doors open, and they take the few steps over to Angella’s waiting room. Juliet is already there, her arms crossed as she stands before Angella’s office door in her default bodyguard stance, just waiting.

“We’ll wait for Glimmer and Bow to arrive. Angella is still going over everything that was sent in,” Juliet tells them. Adora fidgets with her hands, focusing herself by spinning the ring on her finger and nodding to Juliet. At her back, Catra cautiously lifts a hand and places it on her shoulder, squeezing lightly to ground her. Adora turns to look over her shoulder to Catra, intending to throw her a thankful smile. Instead, she sees a bolt of fear strike across Catra’s face.

There is no sound, no movement, no indication of _anything_ , but Catra tackles her to the ground.

\--

Despite how insistent she was on it this morning, going into work sucks. Even with the sound-proofing around Adora’s office, her hearing is extra-sensitive, along with _everything else_ , and it is borderline overwhelming to be in a semi-public space. She is very grateful for Alliance’s hybrid inclusion policies that reduce the noise and scents she has to deal with, but there is nothing to be done for the _people_.

At least in Adora’s office it is _mostly_ quiet, and the main scent is Adora’s and her own. At least there Catra can let down her guard _a little_ and cuddle in her fiancé’s arms without worry about being seen and _judged_. She can control herself perfectly fine, she is just more easily overwhelmed, and when they are alone there is no good reason to hold herself back. Adding another meeting to the docket is not _ideal_ , but she also doubts the presence of Adora’s family will bother her like the presences of her random co-workers do. Catra trusts them, so even if her senses are straining again by the time they reach Angella’s waiting room, she is not feeling anxious.

Angella’s office is soundproofed, much like Adora’s. The CEO has to be able to keep her affairs private. Important decisions are made in there, and if they leaked it could be problematic. It is still hard to _fully_ soundproof, but if Catra weren’t on her heat she would miss the first sound – a sharp, quiet _crack_. If she had missed the first sound, she might not have reacted to the second sound in time. As it is, she is tackling Adora to the floor before Angella’s head hits the desk in a _thud_.

“Sniper in the office!” Catra hisses as she grabs Adora by the shoulders and drags her back against the wall. Catra may have never fired a gun at a living target herself, but she _knows_ the sound of a sniper through glass. Juliet is bolting for the office door immediately, Adora stuttering a noise of shock beneath her. Catra ignores her, adrenaline pumping in her veins as she raises her hand to her earpiece and switches it to the open security channel.

“Sniper on the executive level, in the CEO office. Angella has been hit. Total lockdown, all windows on the North side sealed,” she snaps out, hauling Adora to her feet with her one free hand. She needs to get her to the panic room on this floor. Really, it is just a reinforced interior office that is equipped with medical supplies and can be locked down, but it will keep them safe from the sniper at least.

Adora verbally protests as Catra hauls her away from the office, but she does not physically resist, and Catra is not listening to her words. Juliet left the door to Angella’s office open when she darted inside. Catra can hear groans of pain and smell blood, but that is _good_ , that means she is alive. In Catra’s ear, the security channel explodes to life, but Catra only listens to it with a corner of her mind, ears straining as she drags a shell-shocked Adora down the hall. She has to be on alert for an infiltrator coming, but they reach the office down the hall without sign of anyone approaching.

Catra quickly unlocks the office, dragging Adora inside and throwing her onto the couch. Adora blinks up at her in surprise as Catra turns back to the door. “ _Stay locked down_. I’m going to help Juliet with Angella. Let no one inside but me,” Catra orders. Adora starts to protest, but she cuts her off by closing the door behind her and re-arming the security lock. She, Juliet, and Bow are the only ones who know the codes, and Adora can unlock the door from the inside if necessary. The door and walls are reinforced. Adora should be safe.

Catra takes off down the hall on all fours, digging her claws in to drift around the corner without slowing so she can run back into the waiting room. Her chest is pounding, breath coming in sharp bursts, but she needs to get Angella so she can get back to Adora.

Juliet has managed to haul Angella into the waiting room. The office door is closed now, but Catra can see the sniper shot again in her absence. The first bullet hit Angella, but there are now two bullet holes in the door as well. Angella is bleeding from her shoulder, blood soaking down her suit jacket as Juliet tries to apply pressure, but Catra does not see any other wounds on her.

“Medical station in the panic room. We get her there and I can treat her,” Catra relays to Juliet, dropping to a crouch beside her. Juliet looks up at her, expression a grim mask, and nods. Catra’s ear twitches as _another_ crack and soft impact echo from the office over Angella’s ragged breathing. No one is even _in_ there anymore. There is no point in shooting except to sow chaos in the crime scene.

Catra takes one of Angella’s arms while Juliet takes the other, still trying to hold pressure against the wound as they haul her out of the waiting room. From in the office, Catra hears one last _crack_ before they round the corner. Either the sniper is hoping to blindly shoot them through the wall, or something is _going on_.

\--

“My love? The door,” Catra’s voice calls from out in the hall. Adora was already plastered against the inside of the door, listening for any sounds, so it barely takes her a moment to unlock the door and fling it open. Her heart is in her _throat_ , blood pounding in her ears and breath coming in sharp gasps. Her panic is not helped by the sight of Catra and Juliet just a few feet away, hauling a pale and bleeding Angella, but at least she knows she is _alive_.

Adora steps aside to let them through, quickly sealing the door shut behind them. Catra and Juliet move with military efficiency, laying Angella out and opening up the medical station hidden within the cabinet. Adora feels like she is lagging several steps behind, barely processing as Catra and Juliet begin to work in tandem on Angella’s shoulder. Adora’s vision is seeing what is happening, but her brain is too far behind to understand it.

Angella lets out a hiss of pain and a soft noise of protest as Catra cuts her shirt and suit jacket around the wound with her claws, making it possible to pull the fabric away and get direct access to the wound. Catra didn’t even touch her directly. Adora swallows, crossing the room again to crouch by Angella’s other side, taking her hand in her own as Catra works on Angella’s shoulder, Juliet preparing medical supplies by her side.

“I’m right here, Angella. It’s going to be okay. Catra and Juliet are taking care of you,” Adora whispers to her. Angella’s face is slack, her skin a bit too pale, but her eyes flutter open and stare blankly up at the ceiling. Adora doesn’t know if that means she heard her or not, but it is probably a good sign she is conscious at least. Angella’s eyes roll around a little before they land on Adora and settle there. Her gaze is unfocused, but she seems to be _seeing_ her at least. Angella weakly licks her lips.

“Adora, my dear? I do believe I am retiring,” she croaks. Adora blinks at her, feeling tears roll down her cheeks. She thinks it is supposed to be a joke. She laughs weakly regardless, disbelief and confusion all she knows.

“Of course, Angella. Glimmer will be thrilled to have more responsibility,” Adora returns, smiling softly down at her. The corner of Angella’s mouth quirks at her absurd statement before her face screws up and she lets out a groan of pain. Adora squeezes her hand. To her right, Juliet is on her earpiece, demanding an ETA on an ambulance and to know which floor Glimmer is locked down on.

Adora watches with wide eyes as Catra presses a bandage over Angella’s shoulder.

\--

The wound is clean, in and out with a small caliber sniper bullet. She wouldn’t even use this caliber for a serious assassination attempt, and she just adds it to the list of oddities once the wound is cleaned and closed. As she tries to stop the bleeding, she can’t help but notice the _location_ too.

Angella’s shoulder, near the join of her neck, but not _quite_ close enough to be aiming for an artery. Weaving beneath a major tendon and above the bone. It is either the worst shot in history, nowhere near the head, throat, or heart – or it is the cleanest. Catra can’t think of another place the bullet could have shot through that would have been _passable_ as a serious attempt without risking actually killing the victim. Angella’s fingers are twitching, so she clearly still has control of them. It is just too _perfect_ of a missed shot.

“I don’t care if they say sixty seconds, I need the ambulance _now_. I’m not moving Angella out of safety until I know the medics are here to receive her. How far are the police?” Juliet barks by her side. She has one hand on her earpiece and the other on Angella, helping to apply pressure on the entry side of the wound as Catra works on the exit, but her words strike a chord with Catra.

Her fourth kill, in a private bed of an emergency room. A car accident she arranged. It would either kill him outright, or it would send him to the hospital – where she quickly found herself as well, sneaking in and smothering him with his own pillow. It doesn’t make sense as a strategy for _this_ – if they wanted Angella dead they could have just killed her with a proper sniper shot – but the weird, errant bullets in the office set her on edge, and now Juliet’s words drag her out of her thoughts.

“Cancel the ambulance. We’re treating her here ourselves,” Catra orders, finally looking up from her work to make eye contact with Juliet. Juliet narrows her eyes at her, her mouth set in a firm line.

“Are you crazy? We need to-“

“ _They’re waiting for her_. No one bold enough to assassinate Angella is this sloppy,” Catra cuts in.

\--

Adora is shaking. So is Glimmer, pale as they huddle in the main security office. Glimmer has Angella’s right hand in hers now, squeezing it firmly and talking in a shaky voice to her mother, just trying to keep her alert. Juliet is gone. She is downstairs, along with a chunk of her security team, talking with the police that have arrived. Bow is standing guard at the door, staring at it like he expects someone to try breaking it down any minute despite _more_ of Juliet's team waiting outside of it.

In her arms, Catra shifts weakly. “Shh, it’s okay,” Adora soothes in a whisper, raising one trembling hand to pet over her mane. Catra stills again, turning her face into Adora’s shoulder and breathing deep. After the adrenaline rush came crashing down and the whole family was secured in the security office, Catra damn near fainted, stumbling into Adora’s arms and shaking. It was too much for her body to handle with her hormones already raging.

Catra had insisted she was only resting so she could be alert again the second they have to leave the room. She still has to get up every few minutes to check on Angella’s shoulder and change the bandage. Adora holds her close in her arms as she sits with her back to the wall, stroking her mane and willing her heart rate to finally slow down. Her throat is still tight, but she doubts that will ease until she is _certain_ Angella is going to be fine.

As it is, they will probably have to take her to a hospital in the next hour, but Catra and Juliet had a heated debate for a few minutes up in the panic room before deciding they could not risk bringing her to such a public space. Something about the sniper being too competent to have missed this badly. Catra had convinced Juliet eventually, even if Adora did not understand it. She trusts Catra, and as long as Angella is stable, staying in a secure location sounds like the safest option anyway.

In her arms, Catra twitches again, her eyes fluttering open as both she and Bow bring their hands up to their ears, hovering them above their earpieces as they listen. Adora watches horror creep into Bow’s expression at the same time that Catra’s eyes slip closed again and she nuzzles back against Adora.

“Told you so,” she murmurs down the line before dropping her hand again. She purrs softly as Bow turns to face the room with wide eyes.

“The EMTs that arrived didn’t have ID. They were plants. They’re under arrest now. This- this wasn’t an assassination. It was a kidnapping,” Bow relays. Adora swallows.

“Then why did they feel the need to involve a sniper rifle? I would have vastly preferred a less bloody attempt,” Angella manages from the floor. Catra snorts a laugh while Adora stifles hers, and Glimmer looks like she might have a heart attack.

“Mom! Be serious!” Glimmer hisses, tightening her grip on Angella’s hand. Angella hums, her eyes slipping closed.

“I am being serious, Glimmer. I am serious about retiring. I am serious about all of us staying home for the rest of the week. And I am serious about craving a chocolate éclair. That is the part I am _most_ serious about,” Angella lists off, in succession.

Adora can’t suppress her laugh anymore. She giggles along with Catra as Glimmer stares down at Angella, the mix of relief and disbelief on her face as amusing as Angella’s words. Maybe it is the adrenaline crash, but within a few moments all of them are laughing, even if the best Angella can manage is a weak chuckle.

Well, all of them are laughing but Bow, who just kinds of stares at them in shock. Apparently, he doesn’t get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here’s my thing: heat fics are good In Theory, but so many of them make consent questionable or outright impossible. This isn’t true for all of them, but it is something I see. I wanted to portray it in a more realistic and softer way.


	22. ACT II: The Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder from Act I: Alliance is privately owned by the Queens (no shareholders) and has been for generations. Angella was the CEO, Glimmer the COO (like the righthand of the CEO), and Adora was the CIO.  
> Have I mentioned I’m a recovered Finance major? Anyway sorry for the discussion of the Fed(eral Reserve).

On Friday, Adora is working in her office when she hears the distinctive sound of Catra’s squeaky, raspy yawn through the wall. She saves her work immediately, standing to go check on her. By day five, her heat is calming down, although she is starting to feel a bit sluggish again as her body starts to seek much needed rest.

Adora can’t help but smile to herself as she slips into their bedroom. The lights are dimmed, but the blinds are up so Catra can curl into a ball in the resulting sunbeam, right in the center of the nest of blankets she has made of their bed. Catra is nuzzled down into their sheets, her face buried there as she absently kneads against the mattress, purring softly. Clearly her nap went well. Catra woke up to nightmares last night, and Adora had them the night before that. She had been worried even a nap might trigger them now, but Catra is clearly content as she burrows into their bed.

“You going to stare all day, or are you going join me?” Catra rasps out, finishing with a yawn at the end that looks to damn-near threaten to dislocate her jaw. Adora’s smile widens to a grin as she starts into the room, toeing off her house slippers before she slips into the bed with Catra. The only thing Catra is wearing is a loose pair of shorts, and Adora runs her hands through her fur with a soft hum as she settles at Catra’s back, wrapping her up in her arms. Catra’s purr rumbles louder as she wriggles back against Adora.

“What time is it?” she asks, sleep still clinging to the edges of her voice. Adora curls one arm around her chest so she can splay her hand in the soft fluff over her heart. She twists to check the clock behind her before turning back to press a kiss against the side of Catra’s neck.

“Just a bit past four. You only slept for an hour. How are you feeling?” she asks, gently stroking her hand on Catra’s chest. Catra purrs, apparently satisfied with the answer, and arches a little into Adora’s touch. Her tail is swaying, and her ears are perked up, but she is not starting to flush again.

“Content. Everything is starting to calm down now. Can you stay for a little while?” Catra asks, wriggling in her arms again to bury herself deeper into the sheets. Adora hums a confirmation. She actually really _can’t_. Wednesday had been a wash, everyone focused on the sniper, and Angella, and having to deal with the police, and their unofficial investigation becoming a very _official_ one after it likely prompted SWO to put out another hit.

Adora spent most of Thursday dealing with the investigators and trying to field any essential company functions for Angella and Glimmer. Despite Angella being stable for a long time, Glimmer had yet to leave Angella’s side, and Adora wasn’t going to let anything force her away before she was ready. Glimmer is working again today – from her laptop, in Angella’s room – but there is a lot of catchup to do, and anything Adora can do to make things easier on her she is happy to take on.

Even ignoring all the work built up, she kind of just got _huge_ news and really should reply to it, but instead she cards her fingers through Catra’s soft fur and presses kisses against her shoulder as she purrs and squirms her hips a little. Despite saying she is _content_ , Adora can’t help but suspect she is starting to get turned on again. As long as they manage to get some time alone every couple of hours Catra seems fine, especially now they are all on lockdown at home, but it has been awhile.

Instead of getting up and dealing with _any_ of that though, Adora pets her hand down Catra’s chest and cradles her close with her other arm. Having Catra here in her arms, purring in happiness, is all she could ever really want out of life anyway. She can work late if she has to, she might as well enjoy this while she has it right now. She lets out a noise of utter _delight_ when Catra twists in her arms to cuddle in against her chest, face-to-face. Catra snorts in amusement, but her purr picks up.

“You’re such a dork,” she tells her, even as she marks along her neck. Adora just smiles, reaching a hand up to stroke Catra’s cheek, finishing the gesture with a scratch beneath her chin that has her purr approaching _engine_ volume.

“I love you too. I should get back to work, though. You want me to bring my laptop in here?” she asks, continuing to scratch under Catra’s jaw. Catra’s eyes have fluttered close, her ears and tail limp as she melts beneath the affection, but she still huffs.

“Yeah. It stays at the end of the bed, though,” Catra tells her, even as she tilts her head back to get a better angle, clearly demanding more scratches. Adora leans forward, dropping her hand and replacing it with a kiss, hoping it will be enough of an offering. Catra presses back eagerly, just a touch hungry, so it seems to satisfy her.

“I won’t mess up your nest,” Adora promises as she pulls back, tousling Catra’s ears as she rolls out of bed. Catra growls a warning behind her, but she doesn’t comment. Adora is not sure if it is because of the reference to her blanket fort or from the gesture. Probably the first one. Catra is understandably sensitive about her heat, and Adora is doing everything she can to accommodate her, but if she didn’t gently give her at least a _little_ shit, they wouldn’t really be _them_.

Adora heads back to her office, pulling up her remote desktop on her laptop first to verify its state is saved before she powers down her physical desktop. As she leaves the office, laptop tucked under her arm, she almost walks straight into Melog. Melog looks up at her a bit balefully, mewing softly and nudging their head against her hip. Adora drops a hand to tousle _their_ ears, but unlike Catra, they make no complaints.

“She’s doing fine, buddy. Paw on the door if you need anything, but you know the rules. You’re not allowed in the bedroom,” Adora tells them, giving them a few pets and a scritch behind the ears before continuing on to the bedroom. Melog walks by her side down the hall, rubbing against her leg as she goes.

Catra’s eyes open to track her movement as she re-enters the bedroom. Adora feels a bit bad as she closes Melog out of the room. Catra sleepily watches her set up her laptop at the foot of the bed. She lays out on her stomach, pulling her remote desktop back up and getting to work as Catra shifts to drape over her back. To her surprise, Catra draws in a sharp breath above her as she settles.

“ _Adora_ , why didn’t you say anything?” Catra asks, and Adora realizes she was reading over her shoulder. She blinks down at the email update from the lead investigator on the case of Angella’s shooting.

“I didn’t want to ruin that moment,” she returns, hitting _reply_. It wasn’t like telling Catra would move the process along faster, and it is good news regardless. The faux-EMTs that had been arrested on Tuesday night have agreed to a plea deal, ratting out SWO’s director for hiring them in exchange for a lighter sentence. It isn’t proof SWORD killed Mara and Hope – yet – but it is enough, combined with everything else the investigation team has found in the last few days and the last _week_ before that, to make an arrest and press charges for the shooting.

Hopefully that arrest warrant will lead to evidence on Mara and Hope’s murder. Adora can’t imagine the director would have ordered the kidnapping if he wasn’t the one responsible for the hit on Mara and Hope as well. According to the would-be kidnappers, the job had been to find out what the family knew about the murder and Melog. Apparently SWO has given up on Adora, since they have never made a move for her, but they are _still_ trying to get their hands on Melog. They can _make_ another egg if they get their hands on Melog again, after all.

Adora feels unbelievably guilty that not only did her parents die because of her, but now Angella has gotten hurt for her too. As much as the email is good news, it is also confirmation of her fears. She isn’t sure, really, how she is going to face Angella in an hour and tell her _she_ is the reason there’s a bullet hole in her shoulder-

“Catra?” Adora prompts, softly, her voice low. Above her, Catra makes a questioning sound, shifting to cling to her back a little. “Can you say the thing, please?” Adora rushes out, almost in a whisper. She is ashamed to be asking, but Catra told her to come to her whenever she starts spiraling again. Catra lets out a soft breath above her before sweeping aside her ponytail to press a kiss to the back of her neck.

“This isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have predicted this or stopped it. Sometimes the people you love get hurt for you. That doesn’t make it your fault,” Catra promises her. Adora draws in a shuddering breath, feeling her shoulders shake as she reaches out and closes her laptop. She just got promoted to COO, but her work can _wait_.

“Come here, princess. I don’t think I’m done getting cuddles yet,” Catra prompts her softly, tugging on her shoulder to turn her over. Adora lets herself be repositioned until they are laying on their sides again, cuddled together. She tucks her face into Catra’s mane, letting the softness soothe her.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. Against her, Catra rumbles softly and nudges closer.

\--

By the next week, Catra’s heat has completely passed and she feels back to normal. Angella is in pain, but recovering well, and SWO’s director, Adam Randor, has been arrested for ordering her shooting and attempted kidnapping. Adora received an update on Monday that evidence of various illicit doings were piling up now they had searched his home, and they would soon be searching his workplace, as well as two of his labs that had been implicated in criminal activity. It might lead to evidence of Mara and Hope’s murder, it might not, but they can already be rest assured that Randor will likely be in prison for the rest of his days.

It technically means lockdown can be lifted, but they are also trying to be cautious in case he was not the only person willing to kill to keep their secrets. Multiple people at SWO have been implicated in Randor’s illegal activity, and Catra is not comfortable letting Adora in public. Glimmer is dealing with a serious wave of trauma and not _ready_ , and with Angella still on orders to rest, it is best that the entire family just stays at home.

Catra knows they are safe there, but she still doesn’t want to leave on Tuesday morning. “Text me, okay? And I’ll call you. A few times, probably,” Catra tells Adora, stroking through her hair and looking down at where she is sat on Angella’s loveseat. Catra can feel her tail lashing, but she hates the idea of leaving Adora even if she _agreed_ to this. Adora doesn’t seem to mind, leaning happily into her touch even with her laptop caught between the two of them.

“I’ll text you. And you can call me whenever you need to hear my voice. Juliet will keep us safe,” Adora promises her. It takes another _twenty minutes_ of convincing, but eventually Catra leaves Adora in Angella’s home office with her aunt, cousin, and both of their bodyguards. Catra does _have_ to go to Alliance to review the upgrades to security, she just hates it when Adora so much as leaves her hearing range. Juliet is the head of security, but she doesn’t have Catra’s senses, so it falls to her to check on the renovations to the CEO and COO office.

Angella had, apparently, been as serious as she insisted she was about retiring. Adora has kind of been _terrified_ of the promotion to Glimmer’s old position now Glimmer is taking over as CEO, but it has at least calmed her guilt some – or at least convinced her that her family doesn’t blame her, even if _she_ still does. Glimmer’s old office is being renovated in anticipation of Adora’s return to it when the family _does_ start going in public, and so is Angella’s. The glass in both offices is being replaced with a type that is difficult to see through from the outside.

The new glass is just one of the many things Catra has to test once she arrives. She checks the security measures, the offices, the glass and the soundproofing. She watches how the security team checks visitors in the lobby and texts Juliet updates and opinions. Every twenty minutes, she calls Adora, even if it is only for a few seconds, just to assure herself that everything is all well at the estate.

The eighth time she calls, Adora is giggling. Catra raises an eyebrow despite how she is the only one in the stairwell, climbing her way to the roof of a building across the street from Alliance. The sniper set up on the 80th floor of this building, apparently, and she wants to check on the view through the new windows from here. She rode the elevator to the top floor - she isn't a _masochist_ \- but the final climb to the roof level has to be done on the stairs. 

“Having fun, princess?” Catra questions as she hesitates outside the door to the roof, not wanting the wind noise there to interrupt their conversation.

“Well, Melog got lonely at the house and broke into Angella’s office, so yes, I’m having a blast. Glimmer is in shock,” she relays. She actually sounds _delighted_. In the background, Catra can just make out Glimmer shrieking about how they never told her Melog could _open doors!_ She sounds a hair from a breakdown.

“A lot of animals can learn to open doors, Glimmer. I saw a video of a python letting itself out once. It isn’t that surprising,” Adora says, her voice a bit fainter as she no doubt turns her head to address Glimmer. By the sputtering, that has not reassured her.

“Tell Melog that I said to behave themselves around Angella. I’m doing my final checks now and then I will be able to head back,” Catra relays. Adora hums an affirmative.

“They’re being very polite. They are just laying across my feet right now. I’ll see you soon?” Adora returns, sounding a touch hopeful at the end. Catra smiles to herself.

“Yeah, you will, princess,” she assures.

\--

On Saturday, Adora goes to visit Hope’s grave. She settles with Catra a few feet in front of Hope’s tombstone, leaning back against where Melog has laid down and using them as a backrest, Catra tucked in against her side.

“Do you… think I’m supposed to talk to her?” Adora asks Catra, quietly, staring at the lonely headstone. It won’t be alone for long, and it feels like if there was ever a time to speak out loud, it would be now. Catra is silent at her side for a long time, her head resting on Adora’s shoulder.

“I guess I assumed that was just in movies, but if you think it will make you feel better, I think you should do it,” Catra tells her, stretching up a little to kiss her cheek before dropping her head back to her shoulder. Adora considers that, nodding after a long moment. She tries to visit Hope once a week, and she always talks to her in her head, but she has never said more than a few words like _I’m sorry_ to her. It feels weird, talking to a stone, but it also feels like if there was ever a time, it is now. Adora swallows.

“We should have Mara back soon. I’m sorry you were apart, because of-“

“ _Adora_ ,” Catra cuts in, her voice gentle, but there is a restrained pain there. Adora stops, taking a few deep breaths, but she nods. Finding the records had been a _lot_ and done nothing to quiet her guilt, but at least they led the investigation team to find Mara.

“I’m sorry SWORD kept you apart. After all the research was gone, Randor wanted to at least know how- _carrying me_ affected Mara, so he had her body retrieved from the sewer for an autopsy. _That_ is why you were apart,” Adora tells the headstone, as much as herself. Catra squeezes her arm around Adora’s waist, anchoring or reassuring her, it doesn’t matter. She is here, with her.

“They buried her after, at least. To cover their own tracks, but she was at rest, and she will be back. Randor is never getting out of jail, even if the trial hasn’t happened yet. Several more people in SWORD have been arrested, too, and the assassin that took the job was killed years ago. You have – been avenged. We’ll bring Mara home, and you can rest,” Adora murmurs.

She doesn’t actually believe Hope can hear her. She knows ghosts are a _thing_ , maybe, but she doesn’t actually think some residual energy is sitting in the headstone before her. If it is, though, she wants Hope to know. To finally lay down the burdens she has been carrying for twenty years and be at peace.

“You can rest, too, Adora,” Catra adds gently, at her side. Adora draws in a sharp breath, staring at the stone and feeling tears prick at her eyes.

Once there is a second headstone there, she thinks she finally might.

\--

They go to the Blues on Sunday, because they _should_ be safe now, and because if Adora doesn’t get out she is going to start climbing the walls. They bring Melog too, since their existence might not be public knowledge, but it is public _record_ now the MELOG and She-ra projects have been exposed by the investigation, along with a dozen other unscrupulous experiments, although at least none of the others involved _creating_ living beings, even if there was one really fucked up attempt at brainwashing with uninformed volunteers.

Melog is shy in the car at first again, but they come happily bounding out of the backseat when they arrive at the park. They seem to be nervous to be in unfamiliar territory. Adora keeps trying to encourage them to explore, but they stick close by her side as they walk. They mostly stay close enough to rub against Adora’s or Catra’s leg. They clearly want to look around a bit more, but even when they strain forward at the sight of movement on the edge of the path ahead, they stay close by.

When Adora tries to tell them they can run ahead if they want, Melog mews a bit sadly to her. Catra sighs to herself.

“They don’t want to be alone in the outdoors, I think. It’s different than the kept lawns inside the estate, you know? I think they are worried about being left behind again,” Catra mutters to Adora. She doesn’t know why she feels awkward saying it. She wouldn’t want someone broadcasting that vulnerability about her, but sometimes she finds herself translating for Melog. Adora understands them fairly well, but she isn’t the most socially aware at the best of times, and the language barrier definitely doesn’t help. Almost everything to do with Melog is body language, which tends to be the thing Adora struggles with the most.

Adora looks borderline horrified, turning to look down at Melog. Melog, for their part, has their head down and ears pinned back. They almost sulk at Adora’s side as Adora draws to an abrupt halt.

“Melog, do you want to go home? We don’t have to be out here. I know you like spending time with us, but you shouldn’t do it when it makes you uncomfortable,” Adora tells them. Melog shakes their head, butting against Adora’s leg and darting their gaze around the trail. Catra frowns to herself.

“I think they just need to stick close to be comfortable,” Catra guesses. Melog mews. Adora doesn’t look convinced, but she concedes that they will go to the first lookout point and then turn back. Melog seems happy with that decision. As long as they stay close, they seem fine. They outright refuse to be separated, despite the way they seem to want to chase after movements in the trees. At least their hang ups seem to be saving the park’s wildlife from an early death.

Catra is still fairly confident that Melog enjoys the hike. They don’t scent in any way that Catra recognizes – they are, after all, the only of their kind – but their tail waves happily as they sniff at the path and pad in time alongside her and Adora as they hold hands. Adora clearly feels guilty. She asks Melog if they want to join them for family dinner when they get back, despite how Melog hasn’t joined them for it since that first night when they hadn’t wanted to leave them alone in the house. Melog nuzzles against her, a clear _yes_ , and they all make their way up to the main house come nightfall.

They have dinner in a parlor in the master wing. Angella has been taking her meals there, the back of the dining chairs too painful for her healing shoulder, and unnecessary movement over to the dining hall not recommended. Casta raises a brow at Melog’s presence by Catra’s side, trailing just a bit behind Adora, but she doesn’t comment when Melog settles on the floor beside Catra’s chair.

At least she isn’t the only one eating a differing meal at the table now. Not that her diet is _that_ restricted – it is mostly just grains and sugars – but she sometimes ends up having to leave off a side or main dish. After a few weeks, Adora pointed out the issue a bit _loudly_ at dinner one evening, Catra shrinking in her seat beside her, but apparently everyone else had been totally unaware and just assumed she was picky. Since then, Angella - or maybe the chefs - have made an effort to only have inclusive meals at Sunday dinner.

Today it is just side rolls that she leaves off. Something Glimmer loves, and no part of Catra is bothered by their presence. It is different when it is a single add-on option she is avoiding rather than an entire dish. She still likes that she and Melog have the same meal, regardless, even if Casta looks far too fascinated as she watches Melog eat. Maybe she assumed they would eat out of a _bowl_ or something, but that seems demeaning. Melog eats _with_ them.

“Glimmer, are you sure you are ready to go back in tomorrow? No one will blame you if you take a few more days,” Angella asks as Catra finally digs in to her own food. Glimmer takes a deep breath from where she and Bow are sat beside each other. 

“I’m sure. The CEO has been absent for nearly two weeks now. I need to go back. Besides, I’m not leaving Adora to the wolves. She will pass out on the _first day_ ,” Glimmer assures her mother. Catra snorts, and Adora makes an offended sound. Glimmer is _wrong_ , but only because Catra would not let that happen, and Adora’s family certainly does not need to know _how_ they have been fending off her stress collapses. Glimmer definitely _suspects_ , but no one has attempted to get confirmation. Besides, their claims that Catra forces Adora to take critical breaks are _true_ , it is just the content of those that is a secret.

Angella does not seem fully convinced. She is still worried, but Glimmer has been processing for awhile now, and she is determined to be a good CEO, which kind of requires going back to work. Angella turns to send Adora a look. Adora pauses in the middle of raising her fork to her mouth.

“Don’t look at me, it was _my_ idea to start going back in tomorrow. After _thirteen arrests_ I doubt there is even anyone left to come after us, and the message has been pretty clear. We need to show a strong company face, now,” Adora tells Angella, shrugging, before she takes her bite. Angella sighs, shaking her head a little. Catra puts down her fork. Adora is usually better at assurance than this, even if she is _right._

“I personally took a scope and tactical binoculars to the building across from Alliance. I couldn’t make anything out through the new windows. They replaced several other windows on the executive level, so the office can’t be picked out by any visible differences or peeking in from the outside. Security has been tightened, visitors have been limited, and there is a permanent guard stationed outside of both of Glimmer’s and Adora’s waiting rooms. They’ll be safe,” she assures. Angella sighs again, although this time it at least seems a bit more relieved.

“Of course. I trust you, Catra, I just worry for them. You will be a fantastic interim head of security,” Angella tells her. Catra is not _positive_ Angella is not just saying it to assure herself, but it makes her blush regardless, simply nodding and accepting the compliment. Juliet is staying with Angella at the estate for the time being. In a few weeks, she will return to overseeing Alliance’s security during the week, but in the meantime, Catra had proven herself for the position in stopping the assassination attempt.

She isn’t exactly looking _forward_ to it, but it does assure her that Adora will be safe, since _she_ is the one in charge of ensuring it. It will be a change to be running security out of the COO’s office, but it will also be nice to start getting out of the house again. Being cooped up makes her twitchy, reminding her of her time stuck in the Horde’s base, just hoping for another job to let her breathe air for a few days. Catra is going just as stir crazy as Adora. She can only hope that Glimmer isn’t right about a stress collapse.

\--

Adora didn’t think starting to work in-person at her new position would be _easy_ , but it does turn out to be infinitely harder than it was when she was remote. Apparently things were _saving up_ for when she was back in the office, people holding back for until they could present their problems to her in person. She spends the first two days in meetings constantly, and then Wednesday in meetings _near_ constantly. On Thursday her schedule isn’t looking any clearer. She doesn’t even get a _lunch break_ because she has a conference call.

Her lunch break is the only thing that has been saving her so far. Just knowing she is not going to get that hour to breathe – and bury her face in Catra’s fur, or maybe her tits – makes her morning torturous. By the time she gets out at her eleven AM meeting, her hands are lightly shaking. She tucks them into her pants pockets to hide it, which isn’t _that_ unusual of a thing for her to do, but Catra frowns when she appears to collect her. Adora isn’t allowed to be completely alone outside of her office, but Glimmer was in the meeting too, so Bow was there to keep an eye on her while Catra was busy running security.

Catra reaches her hand out to Adora the second the elevator doors close behind them. Adora bites her lip, hopes her hands have steadied despite how she can still feel them shaking, and slips her hand out of her pocket to take Catra’s. Catra ears pin back to her head, her eyes going wide as she looks up from where she was watching Adora’s trembling hand to make eye contact again.

“ _Adora_ ,” she admonishes, sounding a little lost. Adora winces, quickly looking away. It would be easier if Catra was frustrated with her, but she just sounds worried and a bit hopeless. Adora immediately feels a spike of guilt.

“I was fine until today-“ she starts to assure Catra, even though she knows that does little to help _now_. She just does not want Catra to think this is an on-going thing she has been hiding.

“ _You were not_ ,” Catra hisses, narrowing her eyes at Adora. Adora bites her lip and firmly fixes her gaze on the elevator doors. Okay, she has not been _fine_ , but she has been handling it. Catra tugs on their entwined hands, trying to get her attention back, but Adora is saved by the elevator doors opening. Catra growls lowly, her ears still pinned back and tail lashing, as Adora hurries out of the elevator and straight into the waiting room of her new office. She tosses a smile to the orc permanently stationed at her office, currently occupying the space that used to be Perfuma’s office.

She doesn’t really have time to greet Huntara. Her conference call starts in five minutes. She drags Catra by the hand behind her as she heads straight into her office. It is kind of _weird_ having Glimmer’s old office, but it is certainly more expansive than her old one, and her lounge set was moved in during the time at home. It was also repainted after the soundproofing was improved, the walls now a light gray. It helps the room feel different, and less like Glimmer’s. Having her chair from her office also helps. Parts of her kitchenette were moved in, although the rest of it is out in the waiting room, since Glimmer already had a tea and coffee station set up there.

Catra tries to start a conversation with her once the door is closed, but Adora waves her off by pointing out that she needs to finish her security sweep before the conference call starts and heads straight to her desk. She sighs as she takes her desk phone off the hook, pulling up her email to find the number for dialing into the meeting. She has just found the number, glaring at her phone as she punches it in, when Catra finishes her security sweep and comes to stand over her shoulder, looking down at her and _judging_.

Adora has two minutes left. She turns her chair, intending to make Catra some kind of promise to take a break soon, but she cuts off with surprise when Catra immediately climbs into her lap, looking down at her with narrowed eyes. Her suit jacket is gone, abandoned at _some_ point during her sweep, but Adora is a bit too focused staring up at the heated look in Catra’s eyes.

“I have to go to this meeting. It’s my most important meeting today. I might be able to skip a later one?” she offers Catra. Honestly, she might start sending emails now to see if she can skip her one thirty. It is short notice, but she worries about what will happen if she tries to stand – now, or in an hour. To her surprise, Catra’s expression clears as she seems to reach some kind of resolve that makes the corner of her mouth quirk up.

That can’t be a good thing. Adora opens her mouth to say _something_ , but she is interrupted by Catra leaning forward and kissing her with enough force to pin her to the back of her seat. She lets out a soft noise of surprise as Catra sets to claiming her mouth, leaving no room for an argument that Adora is _not making_. They have two minutes for a de-stress make out. These things _usually_ take longer than that, but as she feels Catra reach up and not just undo her ponytail but _snap_ the holder, she decides she will happily take what she can get before her meeting.

Catra threads her hands into her hair, clutching and tugging to angle Adora’s mouth how she wants it. Adora happily lets herself be moved, sighing softly into the kiss. She really regrets her stupid international call. _This_ is the only thing she ever wants to be doing. Reluctantly, she pulls back and has to duck her head to get a look at the clock as Catra tries to chase her.

Noon. She should be in the call already. Her hands had unconsciously risen to grip Catra’s hips at some point, but now she reluctantly releases her to pick up the phone and hit _dial_. In her lap, Catra growls as the phone rings. Luckily it connects on the second ring, or she worries Catra might hang it up for her. Adora ignores her, opening the meeting agenda on her computer as she greets the other participants on the call.

Catra’s tail whips harshly against her arm, the only admonishment she can manage without words while Adora is steadfastly looking at her screen. Catra doesn’t seem discouraged by her lack of acknowledgement, because she leans forward, ducking down to Adora’s neck and bearing her fangs to growl lowly against it. Adora shivers as she feels the vibrations run through her, aware of the _threat_ there, but it is quiet enough the phone receiver won’t be able to pick it up.

Adora opens her mouth to reply to a question on the line and then promptly _closes_ it to avoid gasping when Catra nips at her throat. She stiffens, unsure and also trying to suppress a reaction. In her lap, Catra is totally still, though she is nuzzled against the side of Adora’s neck still. Adora swallows, and replies to the question with an affirmative after an awkward moment of silence.

Catra’s tail is flicking over her keyboard, _amused_. Against her neck, she can feel her fiancé smirking. Adora waits for a better moment, and then reaches over and mutes herself, turning to glare at where Catra is leaned back in her lap now, throwing her an easy, _shit-eating_ grin. Despite her expression, Adora can see a nervous, questioning look in her eyes.

“ _What are you doing_?” Adora hisses like she is still worried about being overheard despite the muted call. Catra’s smile doesn’t soften as she leans forward again, kissing Adora soundly. Adora, to her own shame, kisses Catra back immediately. It makes her purr before she ducks down to nip lightly at her neck again.

“I’m _helping_ , princess. Lunch is our destress time. I’m making sure we get it in. Pull my tail or something if it’s too much. Now get back to your call,” Catra orders, reaching back and flicking off the mute before Adora can _argue_. Catra immediately ducks her head to nuzzle aside her shirt collar and dig her teeth into the join of Adora’s neck and shoulder. It takes a monumental effort to stay silent. She can’t even let her breathing become too affected or it will be picked up by the receiver.

She doesn’t reach for Catra’s tail, though. She swallows, and grits her teeth, and wishes she could moan as Catra sucks lightly against the spot she just bit. Adora knew she had a thing for the _risk_ of public sex – the little window fantasy up at the lake house was enough evidence of that – but there had hardly been any real risk there. This is _dangerous_. Adora knows how to be silent, especially how to suppress her noises, but she isn’t used to having to control her _breathing_ as well.

She feels herself twitch as Catra trails a hand down the line of buttons on the front of her shirt, tracing the shape of the top fastener with her index finger in lazy circles. Catra pulls away from her neck, straightening her back to look down at Adora with a questioning gaze from where she is straddled over her lap. There is an anticipatory spark in her eye.

Adora thought Catra just had some teasing to take the edge off planned, but apparently not. She still nods. A predatory grin spreads across Catra’s face as she flicks the top button open, her hands already dropping to undo the rest. Adora answers a question about interest rates in a surprisingly calm voice as Catra pushes her dress shirt off her shoulders. Adora had forgone a suit jacket or waistcoat today, knowing she needed to give herself some small mercy to get through the day, but she kind or regrets that decision now because it gives Catra instant and easy access to her skin.

As Catra nuzzles down to _bite_ and suck a harsh bruise into the top of her breast, just above the edge of her sports bra, Adora realizes this is the farthest thing from taking the edge off. She might have never felt more on edge than when she has to lead a discussion on adjustments to interest rates and the latest Fed report while Catra’s hands, lips, and _teeth_ are trailing down her torso.

Adora is wet by the time she is not the one leading the discussion of the Fed’s latest rates. The thrill leaves her shivering when Catra lightly trails her claws down her stomach, just enough pressure to have her shuddering. Her head is spinning a little from the effort of keeping her breathing even. It feels like there isn’t enough air to fuel the fire Catra is stoking in her, but she also _can’t_ make a noise.

Catra is enjoying this far too much. Her grin is wicked as she pulls back, hopping up on the edge of Adora’s desk so she can _observe_ what she has done to her. Adora sends her a glare, though she isn’t quite sure what she is annoyed at her for, just that she is soaked in her underwear and Catra isn’t touching her anymore. Adora is asked a question on the call and closes her eyes to block out the hungry look in Catra's eyes so she can focus on finding the answer somewhere in her subconscious.

Closing her eyes was a mistake.

\--

Adora is doing her damn best to keep her voice steady when she is addressed on the call. Catra is perched on the edge of the desk, her hand slipped inside Adora’s undone dress pants. Adora bites her lip and shudders a little as she screws her eyes up, arching into Catra’s touch.

Catra had looked to her questioningly when she dropped her hand to Adora’s fly, but Adora had given her no signal to stop, her breath catching once before she nodded eagerly and tried to return to her call. She is doing a stunning job of keeping quiet, but Catra doubts she is actually absorbing anything that is being said on the line. In her defense, Catra can hear every word from her perch on the desk, and she hasn’t listened to any of it either.

Watching the _strain_ in Adora’s muscles as she holds herself back, desperate beneath Catra’s touch, is doing _a lot_ for her, making her clench her own thighs on the desk. Catra touches her with slow, firm purpose, rubbing her clit in steady motions. Adora twitches, her throat flexing and eyelids fluttering, as Catra picks up her pace. Adora has come silently before, and Catra can only hope she can manage it again, because after so much tension Catra firmly believes she needs the release.

She thinks Adora is close. It is hard to tell when she is holding back all noises and movement, even her breathing surprisingly steady as her throat _flexes_ with the effort. At least she isn’t the one fielding questions right now. Some man’s voice has been droning on for a while now, giving her the perfect opportunity to take _care_ of Adora.

Adora is physically twitching beneath her touch, sweat beading on her forehead. The sight of her hand down Adora’s pants, the movement of her hand obscured but obvious through the cloth, has Catra transfixed as she watches Adora shudder. Adora’s breath stutters, her head turning away from the phone receiver as she takes a deep breath. Every muscle in her body locks and _holds_ for several long moments as her orgasm hits her.

When it passes, Adora goes _limp_ , her breathing uneven as she brings the top of the phone to her ear again, but keeps the mouthpiece turned away as she gets ahold of herself. Her skin is shined with sweat, relaxation and peace sweeping through her as she goes a bit limp in her seat. Adora’s eyes flutter open, and she locks eyes with Catra, a small smile spreading across her face. Catra swallows and flushes, slowly pulling her hand out of Adora’s pants. She doesn’t bother doing them up again – they will have to make a trip into Adora’s bathroom to get cleaned up, anyway – as she slips off the desk to straddle Adora’s lap again.

“Of course, let me forward it right now,” Adora says down the line, bringing the receiver back to her mouth as she leans forward, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder so she can have both hands free. Around Catra’s back, she types on her keyboard for a few moments. When she is done, her hands drop to Catra’s hips. She relays that the email has been sent as she tugs on Catra’s hips, urging her to twist in her lap. Catra frowns to herself, a bit confused, but she follows Adora’s lead until she is settled in her lap again, but with her back to Adora’s chest now. Catra tries to look at the email on Adora’s screen, unsure of what Adora wants her to look at, but she draws in a quick breath as Adora’s hands slide down to her fly, the phone still tucked between her ear and shoulder.

Catra is _losing her mind_ as Adora casually hums and then dismisses something someone on the other end of the line says, no acknowledgement of how she is undoing Catra’s fly and slipping her hand inside.

“No, of course, I understand. We can find time to pick this up next week perhaps. It was ambitious to try to cover all this in an hour, anyway,” Adora says, voice completely relaxed and casual as she slides her fingers along Catra’s folds, causing her to squirm until Adora’s hand finally reaches her clit and she lets out a soft sigh. She _should_ be silent, but the receiver is not anywhere near her, and it sounds like Adora might finally be wrapping up her call anyway.

Catra glances at the clock before her eyes flutter closed when Adora presses against her with firm pressure. Twelve fifty-eight. The meeting should be done in a few minutes, and they have thirty minutes until they next have to leave this room. Adora is _definitely_ going to need to change her underwear, she reeks of desire right now, but luckily she keeps a full change of clothes in her office for emergencies. Said emergencies are supposed to be _coffee spill_ or _early_ _period_ related, but whatever.

Any thoughts of how they are going to get away with this firmly fly from Catra’s mind as she registers Adora saying _goodbye_ down the phone. After a moment, her hand slips out of Catra’s pants, forcing her to suppress a whine before she can vocalize it. Adora’s hand reappears in her range of vision a second later, now holding the phone and placing it back on the receiver.

“ _You little shit_ ,” Adora hisses in her ear, but she in no way sounds _irritated_ as her hand drops to slip back inside Catra’s pants. Catra can’t help but release a soft, relieved moan as Adora returns to touching her. “That’s right, _you_ can make noises. That was _infuriatingly_ good,” Adora tells her, shaking her head a little and chuckling as her free hand comes up to squeeze Catra’s breast through her shirt. Catra arches into the touch happily, releasing a pointed – but quiet – moan as she wriggles her hips down onto Adora’s touch.

She is _soaking_ from the thrill of taking care of Adora like that, from watching her come apart with seven global finance leaders listening in. She shouldn’t let Adora do this in their office, but they are locked up inside, the blinds are drawn, and Huntara is standing guard outside. Even if all of Adora’s long-time threats were not in jail right now, they should be safe. Adora hums as she slips her fingers down to slide through her slick before she returns to her clit, upping the intensity of her touch this time. Catra’s breath quickens as she whines.

“So wet for me, kitten. And so _noisy_. You wouldn’t be able to keep quiet like that if you had to, would you? It’s okay, you can _moan_ for me,” Adora whispers in her ear. Catra _shouldn’t_ rise to the bait – but she mewls softly, feeling the heat flood through her when it makes Adora’s breath catch in turn. Adora’s touch is _so much_ and yet exactly what she needs.

Catra desperately grinds her hips down into Adora’s touch, the heat flooding through her and dragging her over within only a few minutes after a damn near _hour_ of foreplay. She moans as she comes, sound not too loud but very much _there_ as the endorphins flood over her and she goes limp in Adora’s arms. She is purring immediately, twisting a little to nuzzle against Adora’s neck and relax in her embrace.

“You good?” Adora prompts softly, pulling her hand away to wrap both her arms around Catra and cradle her close. Catra rumbles, nudging into Adora and sighing.

“Fantastic. But I’m not making an exception to the rules like that again,” Catra warns her. Adora snorts.

“Sure you aren’t,” she returns. Catra turns her head to narrow her eyes at Adora. Adora is not deterred, smiling smugly at her. Catra scoffs, wriggling in Adora’s arms a little to get comfortable, snuggling into her neck.

“You’re incorrigible,” she shoots back, but she presses a soft kiss to the side of Adora’s neck. Adora actually laughs at that, squeezing her arms tighter around her as she does so.

“Don’t even try to use a word against me that I taught you two weeks ago,” Adora tells her, but her amusement is obvious even as she drops one arm from around Catra to pull up her email inbox. Unfortunately for Catra, it is _true_. Adora called her that and Catra just blinked at her, expression blank, before telling Adora not to swear at her. But in Catra’s defense-

“I never graduated high school, asshole,” she returns, but there is no heat to her words and she continues to purr and nuzzle into Adora’s neck. Adora hums, clearly amused, but she doesn’t argue further.

\--

Adora has an incredibly stressful first week in person as COO, but by her second she has started to get through the backlog of work caused by their lockdown. She is also starting to get the hang of her new duties, after three weeks of practice. She actually kind of likes the job better, despite her increased duties. It is more social, less departmental bullshit to deal with and more people.

Glimmer has a stressful transition too, but she adjusts more quickly. By the second week, she is popping into Adora’s office randomly again to pester her and brag about the fact that she and Bow hit second base. In the case of the latter conversation, Bow was away taking care of security business for Catra. Catra still cackles so hard she almost falls out of her chair. Adora doesn’t bother to tell Glimmer that by this point she and Catra had already had sex _dozens_ of times. Bow and Glimmer aren’t them, and if they want to take things slow, Adora wouldn’t be surprised. Glimmer _knows_ anyway – she and Catra had already come in late due to a morning diversion at this point in their relationship.

There is the added stress of the summer gala coming up, but Angella has dedicated herself to handling the whole thing just to have _something_ to do in her retirement, grateful for something to keep her busy while her shoulder heals. The gala is only two weeks away, but Adora and Catra have had their outfits since May, so there is not much left for them to do in preparation.

It has been a whole month, almost to the day, since Angella was shot when Adora gets the news. They come home a whole thirty minutes late, Adora getting distracted by the call she has been waiting for finally arriving. Melog mews with irritated distress as they open the door into the house from the garage. Adora smiles to herself as she drop her keys onto the console table, Catra setting to work giving Melog reassuring pets while Adora toes off her shoes.

“Sorry, buddy, but it was for a good reason, I promise,” Adora tells them, turning back to face where her fiancé is squatting down to hug the large cat. Melog tilts their head, curious and blinking at her. Adora crosses the few feet to where her two feline companions are intertwined, reaching a hand out to each so she can pet behind their ears.

“Randor finally agreed to a plea deal. He’ll be in jail for the rest of his life, but he admitted to Mara and Hope’s murder. They’ve gotten justice. And he can’t hurt any of us anymore,” Adora tells them, scratching the back of their head. Melog's eyes had fallen closed at the touch, but now they fly open to stare at her. Melog mews, soft and relieved. They nudge up into her hand, rumbling softly. Adora smiles to herself, watching the tension that had leaked out of her body earlier leave Melog as well.

After twenty-three years, Melog is safe. After twenty-one years, her mothers’ deaths are avenged. Life may be turbulent right now, but it is starting to reach a new equilibrium as well.

After they have assured Melog, spending some time with them after the _injustice_ of leaving them alone for an extra thirty minutes, she and Catra settle on the couch together with their ropes. They are still finalizing their design, but some parts they are certain of and can start working on while they make up their mind. She and Catra work together, Catra making the knots and Adora undoing them for her when she messes up. It works well, Catra’s claws making it difficult to unravel them, and Adora’s lack of talent making it hard to _form_ them.

Adora is learning, still. She is determined to contribute her own knots to the design, but she wants them to be _good_ when she does, and for now this system works well to let them both contribute and avoid too much hand strain. Melog watches them avidly as they work. Eyes following the rope that they _want_ to chase but know is too important to play with. They still watch it as it twines around Catra’s fingers while she works.

Tomorrow, they will have their first meeting with their wedding planner. There isn’t much to plan – they are not planning a _traditional_ wedding by any means – but it is still nice to have someone else take care of it in light of how busy work has become. They will have family dinner, and Angella will likely show off how much strength she is getting back in her arm. Casta will tease Glimmer and Bow every time they hold hands – which will be _often_ – and Catra and Adora will exchange amused looks.

Life is falling into a new rhythm. Adora thought when they caught the Horde that the shadow hanging over their lives was gone. She didn’t realize what a demon her parents’ deaths were to her until it was _solved_. The whole reason Angella insisted she get a bodyguard was for fear that whoever hurt her parents would come back for Adora. It turns out Randor never would have come for her if she didn’t start digging into his skeletons.

Psychopathic, rambling notes were recovered in all the search warrants. They included, essentially, hate speech against Hope for _ruining_ Randor’s perfect experiment. Because she contributed DNA to Adora’s conception, she destroyed the controlled conditions behind the experiment. If Adora lived or failed, it didn't _tell_ him anything about his 'creation', because it could have been due to Hope's DNA. Randor never wanted her tainted blood after that. Melog he was still after, desperate for their cells so he could resume his research, but Mara and Hope had done a good job of hiding them away.

Adora is safe now, and so is Catra, and Melog. Of course, Catra is still her bodyguard, but the _fear_ that had been there before is gone now. There are still the regular threats against someone with access to power and money, but Adora truly _feels_ safe for the first time in her life. She no longer has night terrors lurking behind her eyelids every time she sleeps, even if she does have them occasionally still. She always will, just like Catra still wakes up clutching at her neck sometimes.

Despite the lingering effects, Adora feels at peace as she watches Catra stick out her tongue a little as she focuses on her knotwork. She is here, at home with her future wife and their cat-slash-roommate, relaxing on a Friday night where she actually looks _forward_ to the weekend. Five months ago, she never could have pictured this. She was stumbling home drained and stressed at the end of the day, working through the weekend just to keep busy, trying to pretend she was over the mourning she _also_ pretended she was never in.

Now, the girl she was mourning is sitting next to her and cursing when her fingers slip, nuzzling into her side as she sighs and passes the tangled rope over to Adora. Adora smiles to herself as she accepts it, undoing the mistake carefully. Catra murmurs a thank you and takes it back. Catra is smiling too. Adora doubts she is thinking about the same thing, but the sight still makes her chest warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe SLAS is basically DONE. Next chapter is the epilogue, and way shorter, but the main story is over. I'm been working on SLAS for over three months. It's my longest project ever, in both time and word count, and I'm sad to be leaving it behind, but also excited for the next fic, which I will be posting on the same schedule I used for ACT II (Tuesday/Saturday, twice a week).


	23. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adora’s hair for the gala is inspired by [this fanart](https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/632970930521554944/the-next-thing-i-know-its-after-the-war-and). Their outfits are the ones they bought in Chapter 15 – Birthday Girl.  
> Later dresses linked in the end note.

Adora wakes up on the last Saturday in July to Catra squirming in her arms, arching her back a little. Her legs are shifting, thighs clenching together, and Adora realizes immediately why Catra is moving so damn much.

“Good dream, or did you get started without me?” Adora asks, voice rough with sleep as she adjusts her arms around Catra so she can trail one hand down to card through where her fur grows thicker beneath her navel. Catra’s breath _stutters_ , which kind of answers that question for her, because if Catra had actually touched herself she wouldn’t be this wound up. Catra purrs softly.

"My heat just started," Catra hums as she wriggles in Adora's arms a little, pressing back against her as if they are not already cuddled tight together. Adora pauses, some circuitry in her brain misfiring while she tries to compute how that is possible while her instincts yell at her to immediately pull Catra closer.

"You had one six weeks ago," Adora points out, slowly, still trying to decipher where the error is, because that isn't _possible._ She flattens her hand on Catra’s stomach, her _plans_ on hold while she tries to wake her brain up enough to understand the situation.

"You know they're inconsistent. Guess we have to stay home and have sex all day," Catra responds, playful and smug. Adora's brain finally stops struggling as she lets out a snort of laughter, but she still pulls Catra closer, her hand resuming its teasing stroke on Catra’s abdomen.

"If you didn't want to go, you could have just said so," she points out, pressing a kiss to the side of Catra's jaw despite the fact she is an absolute _shit._ In her defense, Adora doesn’t want to go _either_ , but she has to, so Catra has to – as her date rather than her bodyguard, for once.

"I also want to have sex instead," Catra adds, arching pointedly into Adora’s touch. Adora chuckles, tucking her face in to kiss along Catra’s jaw and savour the gasp she draws in when Adora’s touch finally trails lower. She is _soaking_.

“Attendance and sex are not mutually exclusive. What _was_ that dream?” Adora asks, nuzzling into the soft tufts at the edge of Catra’s jaw as Catra shifts restlessly in her arms, whining softly underneath Adora’s touch. Catra is silent for a few minutes except to pant, already so worked that she is a _shuddering mess_ after only a few moments of being touched.

“We took our own limo to the gala,” she manages, before _keening_ when the words make Adora pick up the pace of her hand. Adora does not need Catra to provide further details from there. She can very well get the picture that had Catra so worked up that her fur was starting to fluff up. It is fluffing up again now as she rocks down onto Adora’s hand. All it takes is a few words of encouragement and she is there, keening and moaning.

Melog, wisely, forgoes their morning wakeup call of pawing and mewing at the door.

\--

Every year, the Queens host a summer gala – apparently. It was been a grand total of _six weeks_ since Angella was shot, but she is insistent that the gala has been going on for two hundred years and she isn’t letting a “healed injury” slow her down. Catra watched Adora try to convince Angella to push it off for thirty minutes before she gave up. Apparently the last Saturday in July is sacred, for some reason.

“It’s for a good cause,” Adora sighs, almost as if to remind herself as Catra braids her hair in a half-up, half-down style. She is following a Youtube tutorial to do it, but she thinks she is doing a damn good job at it. Adora looks hot as hell at least – although that is true hair notwithstanding, and the fact Adora is only wearing a thin, loosely tied silk robe might also be influencing her opinion.

“I think you were more excited to go to Skell’s gala,” Catra points out as she finishes fussing with the left braid. The right one is fighting her, but she _will_ get them to meet in a bun if it damn well kills her. She loves Adora’s hair down, and more than that she loves whenever Adora changes it up, even if the mere sight of her blonde ponytail swaying in the distance can calm Catra as she returns from whatever security matter she was called away to oversee.

She isn’t even the interim head of security anymore, they just keep _bothering_ her with things like they think she is _reliable_ or something.

“At least an assassination attempt promised a little excitement. No, this is just going to be hours of niceties, social rules, and trying to convince rich people why they should care,” Adora sighs, her shoulders falling with her frustration, but she keeps her head dutifully still. Catra frowns down at the bun that is finally starting to take shape.

“If nothing exciting happens on its own, I promise to shake things up for you. Let yourself enjoy the party a little,” Catra tells her. Adora sucks in a sharp breath, watching her with _interest_ in the bathroom mirror. Catra smiles to herself. “You’re so _easy_ , princess,” Catra tells her, bending to press a kiss to her cheek as she finally drops her hands from Adora’s hair.

“You are going to be wearing a _leather suit_ , Catra. Forgive me for being excited,” Adora returns, rolling her eyes, but she is blushing as she shifts her legs a little in her seat. They have had sex _three times today_ , and Adora is excited again. She is unbelievable. One of those times might have been Catra’s fault, but she is placing the blame firmly on her dream.

Catra raises a brow and leans down to whisper in Adora’s ear, maintaining eye contact with Adora in the mirror as she speaks. “When you move the right way, I can see your nipples through your dress, _princess_ ,” Catra tells her.

 _That_ shuts Adora up.

\--

Adora expected Catra to be suffering through every moment of the gala, but it turns out she forgot how _competitive_ her fiancé is. By the end of the first hour, she, Catra, and Glimmer are all racing each other to see who can get the most donation promises. It is a little ridiculous, considering the Queens are already matching everything gathered tonight _anyway_ , but they race against themselves to see who can smooth talk the most rich stuck-ups.

Not that _all_ of them are terrible. Glimmer believes in the cause even if she doesn’t know what poverty is in more than an academic sense, but the vast majority of attendees see the donation as a fee for attendance and a check mark on their tax return.

Adora doesn’t know _quite_ why the gala is ocean-themed this year, but she supposes _inner city slums_ doesn’t lend itself well to ballgowns. Honestly, she suspects Angella randomly selected the theme. It might have been an idea from one of the event coordinators, even.

“What is your outfit even supposed to be?” Glimmer asks Catra in a huff when she realizes she is losing a negotiation game to Adora’s bodyguard. She clearly has forgotten that Catra was basically a _spy_ for a few years. Glimmer has no better distraction from her loss, but Catra just raises an eyebrow and answers with an impassive tone,

“I’m the Marianas Trench.”

Adora turns away to stifle her laugh. Catra did make a joke about the deep sea when they picked their outfits out, but Adora had just assumed she was being _Catra_ and wearing what she wanted. The answer only seems to frustrate Glimmer more, so Adora makes an excuse and pulls them both away from the conversation. As they walk away, Adora watches amusement and satisfaction seep into Catra.

“You’re a menace to society, you know that?” she tells her. Catra grins, easy and wide. Adora can feel a smug purr rolling through the hand she has placed on Catra’s lower back, even if she can’t hear it over the murmur of the ballroom.

“I thought you wanted to be entertained? _I_ found the shade Glimmer was turning amusing,” Catra returns. Adora can’t help but laugh, shaking her head as she starts to steer them across the room so they can rub elbows with a few more people.

“I would prefer if tonight’s _entertainment_ didn’t cause Glimmer to burst a vein in her forehead. I’m too young to be CEO,” Adora tells her, shaking her head despite the smile on her face. Catra snorts.

“You’re _older_ than her, but if you would rather talk about how exactly I’m going to ravish you later in this _fucking dress_ , then I would be happy to change topics,” Catra returns. Adora does her best not to turn the same shade Glimmer was and quickly changes their course – she is no longer fit to talk to _anyone_. Catra quietly cackles when she notices Adora’s diversion.

Adora wishes, for the first time ever, that they were hosting the gala at the estate instead of renting out a hotel this year. There is no way she is going to get Catra to make good on that promise any time soon.

“It’s okay, princess, we’ll fuck like it’s our wedding night when we get home,” Catra promises, her voice surprisingly soft despite the teasing lilt still contained in it. Adora can’t help but quirk a wry smile.

“Six more months,” she says, not sure if it is a reminder or a promise. They had wanted to do a fall wedding, but this fall was far too soon, and next fall was _way too late_. It felt right to do it on their one-year anniversary, a fitting time to celebrate even if their knotwork piece is not done by then. It _should_ be, though. Adora is getting the hang of the more complicated knots, and they think they have finally reached their final design, even if they will keep _looking_.

It turns out their relationship is too damn complicated to be encompassed in a more _standard_ design. What they have ended up designing looks more like a star chart than a traditional design, an interconnected weaving of meaningful knots and connections forming a tapestry of constellations, but it feels _right_ for them.

They used to pretend to go stargazing as kids, sneaking out to the basketball court a few streets away because laying out on the concrete was the closest they would get to laying on a grassy hill together. They would point out any twinkling in the sky they could make out through the city light and smog. Their design almost feels like coming full circle. They can see the stars from their bedroom window now, far enough outside the city that the lights shine through.

“You’re fantasizing about it, aren’t you?” Catra asks her, voice teasing but _knowing_. Adora just smiles and shakes her head.

“Not it. Just us,” she returns.

\--

“ _Why am I nervous_?” Catra hisses to Bow through the cracked door to her dressing room. It is actually the spring parlor – Catra is _aware_ of the irony, being back in this room _today_ of all days, but it is the closest private room to the backdoors onto the garden. Actually, there is one other parlor closer, but it is Adora’s on account of it having double doors. Catra knew Adora would want a dress that was at the very least _flowy_ , if not an outright fairytale gown, so the need for wider doors is not surprising.

She may not know _exactly_ what dress Adora got, but they did their preliminary searching together, and Adora even showed her style examples when she was a bit further into her search. Catra knows which way she was gravitating, at least.

Their wedding is the furthest thing from traditional, but they both liked the idea of leaving the other dumbstruck on their wedding day before they walked down the aisle together. Adora has someone who could give her away, but Catra _doesn’t_ – despite Casta’s offer to provide her services – and they both would rather walk through their gathered friends and family together.

“Because it’s your wedding and _everyone_ gets nervous on their wedding day, it doesn't matter how in love they are. The sun is shining, everyone is in their seats, and Glimmer has gotten Adora in her dress. We are ready to go when you are. Adora is acting like a bull at the gates of the bullpen, by the way. She thinks we’re _keeping you from her_ ,” Bow assures her with an easy smile. Catra takes a steadying breath and nods, despite how he can hardly see it through the gap in the door. Bow smiles, wide and relieved.

Catra closes the door and turns to give herself one last once over in the mirror. She hates dresses, she really does, but she wanted to wear one today. She didn’t want to be worried about being tactical, or what she would do if she had to fight. Today, she wanted to accept that she _wouldn’t_. It is her first day fully off duty in a year, even if these days being her fiancé’s bodyguard is an easy gig.

All Catra knows about Adora’s dress is that it is backless. That had been a discussion they had early on into dress shopping, when they realized how many wedding dresses are backless. They decided they would both show their scars proudly today. Glimmer is aware of both their dress choices, making sure they would not awkwardly clash, but she has been tightlipped about what Adora got.

Catra’s own dress is a sheath style, tight with an open back and even open _sides_ to a certain degree, showing off her stripes. She may be wearing a dress, but she is not ever going to be a _ballgown_ person. Adora is, though, and Catra finds herself staring when she opens the door to tell Bow she is ready only to find Adora has breached containment.

Catra feels a bit dumbstruck, staring halfway down the hall where Adora is standing in a lowcut white gown, her skirt billowing around her as she freezes midstride upon catching sight of Catra. At least Adora seems as dumbstruck as she is. They both stare, gaping a little, as Glimmer mutters about _useless lesbians_ in the background and makes a concerted effort with Bow to herd them towards the open doors out to the garden.

At the ushering of Glimmer and Bow, they draw together like magnets in the middle of the hall. Adora reaches out to her, hands shaking and tears already falling. Catra has tears in her eyes too, an overwhelming sensation overtaking her at the thought that after today this goddess will be _hers_ , forever and always.

It has always been them, though.

\--

They walk down the aisle hand-in-hand, thoroughly failing to look at anything but each other. They tie the final knot of their design together at the end of a small speech and brief exchange of vows. Not that they aren’t stupid sappy for each other and unafraid to admit it, but making Catra openly admit her most vulnerable feelings in front of a rapt audience might be tantamount to torture. She still does a fantastic job, making Adora cry within a few seconds, and then she just doesn't _stop_.

They seal it with a kiss, both of them so emotional it can only be soft and shaking. There is a party afterwards – reception, whatever, they just blast music in the garden, dance, and watch their friends get drunk. Melog tries to snatch a desert and hide under the edge of Adora’s dress with it, but the resulting laughter is hard enough to have Adora crying again – for probably the twelfth time that day, but whatever – so she can’t be mad at them for it.

Afterwards, they all walk out to the front of the main house and they see their small gathering of guests off one-by-one – well, their guests who aren’t already _home_. They walk back to their own house, because they want to, and it seems silly to stuff Adora’s dress into a car just to drive two minutes. Melog chirps and mews happily by their side as they walk hand-in-hand, almost like they are talking about how the party went to them.

When they get home, they stand together before the hooks they placed in the living room that morning, each of them holding one of the framing rods their design is suspended between like a hanging scroll. Adora echoes the question Catra had asked her before they stepped into the garden.

“Are you ready?” she breathes. Catra looks as anticipatory as she feels, but she nods. Both of their hands shake as they raise the design to the wall, carefully hanging it up in the center of their home, where no one entering could miss is.

Adora swallows as they take a step back in unison to take it in. Catra releases a soft gasp. Without looking, Adora reaches for her hand and takes it. Catra squeezes back, her breath shaky as if on the verge of tears again.

“I love you so damn much. A year ago I was so fucking lonely and scared. The only good thing in my life was _remembering_ you. I still can’t believe this sometimes,” Catra breathes, staring with wide eyes at the hanging interweave of knots. Adora turns to her, taking her other hand in her own to pull her closer. It isn’t news – they have talked about this before, and Catra alluded to it in her vows – but it still hits her hard.

“A year ago, I was probably a few years from working myself into an early grave because nothing was ever going to matter to me as much as you did. I’m here with you. Always,” Adora promises. Catra is on the verge of tears, but she manages to hold them back for long enough to reply,

“ _I know_. We’re here, together,” she returns, and then she is throwing her arms around Adora’s shoulders and they are hugging, and kissing, and both crying, but it is them and it is _right_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Adora’s wedding dress](https://www.galialahav.com/bridal/gala/collection-no-2/gala-710/). [Catra’s wedding dress](https://www.galialahav.com/bridal/couture/alegria/estelle/). If you click on the pictures for the dresses, it will enhance it and show other photos/angles of them.  
> Thank you to everyone who read, shared, bookmarked, and commented <3 This fic was a wild ride, and seeing people theorize about where the story was going to go was an absolutely incredible experience. I felt like I experienced a microcosm of what people working on these shows get to and it was incredibly powerful.  
> If you are interested, I have a [ficnotes essay](https://n7punk.tumblr.com/post/635079378429149184/ficnotes-for-act-ii-of-slas-as-well-as-the-stuff) on my tumblr with a bunch of behind the scenes content for Act II.  
> My next fic will be “on the other side” in my "and they were roommates" au verse – I will start posting it this Friday!


End file.
